New Order Rising
by Revan419
Summary: Bastila, Revan, and other KoToR regulars end up at Stargate Command. The Covenant and UNSC forces are trapped in a tear between universes and end up in our space time. AU, contains strong sexual content.
1. Prologue: Adrift

**_Author's Note: I had the idea for this triple crossover the other night. Basically, characters from KoToR arrive at Stargate command--chaos ensues. The Covenant and UNSC forces are trapped within a tear between universes, and end up in our space-time. Yush. Oh, and Revan and Bastila are lesbians. More on that later. Shhhh. XD_**

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**Prologue**

**Adrift**

**3,956 BBY**

**The Star Forge**

Bastila Shan worked the blade of her lightsaber around the door frame, melting the interior and causing a breach in the integrity. She gave a grunt, heaved, and pulled her weapon free. The door collapsed inwardly and she stepped over the destroyed remnants, hurrying onward.

She had been born on the planet Talravin to Helena Shan. Her mother gave her up at an early age to the Jedi Order, when it had been determined that Bastila was more than proficient in the use of the Force. After further experimentation, she was found to have a rare gift of the Force known as Battle Meditation—it served to increase her allies' morale while striking fear into the hearts of her enemies.

At the height of the Mandalorian Wars, when the esteemed Jedi Knights Revan and Malak rebelled against the Jedi Council and joined the Galactic Republic in the war against the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders, Bastila sided with the Council. One year later, Revan returned from the Unknown Regions as the Dark Lord of the Sith, with Malak as her apprentice. Their return at the head of a massive invasion fleet marked the beginning of the Jedi Civil War.

For the next two years Bastila fought for the Council and began to formulate a plan to bring Revan's tyrannical reign crashing down. She was the leader of a Jedi strike team whose sole purpose was to capture both Revan and Malak at whatever cost. Her team managed to corner the Dark Lord on the bridge of her ship, but not before she was betrayed by her apprentice. Malak had slipped away in the confusion of the battle and retreated to his own flagship. He ordered his railguns to fire on Revan's ship, hoping to destroy both his former Master and the Jedi in one fell swoop.

Unbeknownst to Malak, Bastila had survived the assault and used the Force to stabilize Revan's wounds. The Dark Lord had been on the cusp of death. In doing so, she unknowingly created a bond between the two of them. Bastila brought the unconscious body of Revan before the Jedi Council. There, the Jedi Masters temporarily erased Revan's memories and reprogrammed her with an identity of a soldier who was loyal to the Republic.

Because of the bond she and Revan shared, the Jedi Council hoped that Bastila would be able to convince the former Dark Lord to reveal the location of the Star Forge, an ancient Rakatan space station that was now under the control of Darth Malak.

Three weeks ago, Bastila's warship _Endar Spire _had been on a routine scouting mission above the Outer Rim planet Taris when it was ambushed and attacked by Malak's fleet. She managed to flee the ship before it was destroyed via the escape pods, assisted by the Republican commander Carth Onasi. Shortly after reaching the surface of the metropolis, she was captured by the Black Vulkars, a local Tarisian swoop gang.

Onasi also assisted Revan in escaping the _Endar Spire, _and together they managed to track down and rescue Bastila. She, Revan, and Carth teamed up with the rebellious teenage Twi'lek girl Mission Vao and her Wookie companion, Zaalbar. They also met up with trash-talking Mandalorian mercenary Canderous Ordo and the assassin droid HK-47. Together with her new companions, she managed to procure both the launch codes necessary to escape the planet and the freighter _Ebon Hawk. _They fled during the Sith's bombardment of the planet and headed to Dantooine.

The local Jedi Council began retraining Revan in the ways of the Force. Bastila was careful to keep her eye on her, making sure that the former Dark Lord of the Sith did not subvert back to her malevolent ways. While recuperating on Dantooine, Bastila and her companions discovered a Rakatan Star Map in the ancient burial mounds near the Jedi Enclave. Startled with this discovery, the Council tasked Bastila and her comrades with determining the location of the Star Forge.

All that was in the past, now. They had successfully found the Star Forge. All that remained was to find and eliminate Darth Malak. Bodies of fallen Sith littered the corridor, as well as parts from dismantled droids. Bastila kept her lightsaber at the ready, anticipating an attack that could come at any moment.

"Observation: These droids are rather primitive, Master. This Star Forge is not very technologically advanced." It was HK-47, offering one of his usual quips to break the silence.

"Quiet, droid, or I'll destroy you myself and feed your parts to a womp rat." The Mandalorian Ordo twirled his pistol to emphasis his point.

Canderous heard the little Twi'lek giggle behind him, and he smiled over his shoulder at her. Then he remembered that he was wearing a helmet, and she couldn't see his expression. Oh well, he thought. She was a very cute girl.

The size of the Star Forge was extraordinary. Capital ships could easily move between the gaps of the three "fins" that radiated outward from the central spherical structure. The fins extended downward to draw energy and matter from the sun of the Rakatan system, using it to produce weapons and armament.

Externally, the Star Forge possessed very little defensive weaponry, save for several turbolaser batteries positioned near its hanger bays. Instead, it depended entirely on its massive ship production capability as a means to defend itself. Internally, it was also capable of manufacturing thousands of battle droids for defense, and possessed several heavy blast doors that ran throughout the entire structure. It was also protected by a ship-disabling energy field projected from the Temple of the Ancients on the Rakatan homeworld nearby. The field caused ships to malfunction and be captured by the planet's gravity well, sending them spiraling down to the planet below.

They had to halt in front of one of the said blast doors, Bastila eyeing it with a calculating gaze. "Revan," she called. "I'll need your help with this one."

The other Jedi had closely cropped brown hair with bangs that hung slightly down over her caramel eyes. Her skin was very fair and unblemished. She was quite beautiful, with a long, thin nose and luscious lips.

Revan still had her double bladed lightsaber from her time as the Dark Lord of the Sith. She simply refused to dispose of it, claiming it had some sentimental value to her. For this purpose, she only activated one side and buried the scarlet blade up to the hilt in the material of the door. Bastila mimicked her.

"Can you feel any shift?" Bastila asked her.

"No," Revan breathed, working the blade desperately into the metal. She twisted and pulled, but the door didn't budge.

"Okay," Bastila said. "One. Two. Three. Push!"

The two Jedi attacked the door relentlessly with their minds, guiding the power of the Force with their hands in an attempt to wrest the door from its frame. It creaked a bit, and then was silent.

Bastila gave a deep breath and withdrew her lightsaber from the door, retracting the yellow blade back within the hilt. "It's no use," she panted, hands on her knees. "There has to be another way."

Revan seemed unfazed, although she did speak around gulps of air. "I think I saw a side passage back there," she said, replacing her weapon on her belt.

A series of growls and guttural sounds came from behind them. The Wookie was saying something to the young Twi'lek girl. She smiled and nodded emphatically, her tentacles bobbing on her head.

"Big Z would like to give it a shot," she said simply. "He may have more luck."

In response, the gargantuan Wookie simply bolted at the door and slammed into it with his shoulder. It gave a resounding _thwock_ and he bounced back, howling in pain.

"I don't think Zaalbar wants to try that again," Vao said.

"This is ridiculous," Revan said heatedly. "We can just go around it. Let's take the side passage."

Carth broke in. "And risk Malak destroying the Republic before we can get to him. We don't have time for that!"

"Snide Acknowledgement: The male human is correct, Master. I can tell you with relative certainty that in the last seven minutes, this Star Forge has produced thirty-nine warbirds and eleven capital cruisers. Also—"

"Thank you, HK," Bastila concluded for the droid. "I agree with Revan. It could take far longer to open this door than it could to navigate around it. We go back."

The Mandalorian wasn't listening. He moved toward the door, snatching a small, round object off his belt. A grenade, Bastila saw. Before she could do anything to stop him, he yanked the pin off and lobbed it at the door. "Back up," was the only warning he offered.

Bastila's ears rang from the explosion. Nothing remained of the door but shattered fragments and a puff of smoke. Wonderingly, she looked at Ordo. "Why didn't you do that in the first place?" she asked.

"It was more fun this way," he replied. "Besides, I'm running out of grenades."

Suddenly, Darth Malak's mechanical voice crackled through the station's intercom. _"Arise, my followers. We are not far now from the goal we have strived so hard to attain. Ready your ships, and prepare to engage the Jedi fools. And if you discover that idiot Revan on your journey, kill her. But bring Bastila Shan to me."_

"We do not have much time left," Bastila said. "We are in the direct path to the hanger bay. More Sith will be here shortly."

"Affirmation: There are two battle droids in the next bend, Master. Forty yards."

"Alright, it's time to split up," Bastila began. "I'll deal with the droids. Revan, take the others to the Viewing Platform. I'll catch you up shortly."

Revan started to protest. "No! Absolutely not! You're not running off alone to get yourself killed. I'm coming with you."

Bastila shook her head sadly. "The others need your help more than I, my friend. I can look after myself."

"The Republic fleet will be here shortly," Carth said. "We'll need your Battle Meditation for that, Bastila."

"I'll be there," she replied. "May the Force fight with you all." And then she was gone.

Revan cursed under her breath but took command of the situation nonetheless. She couldn't afford to be emotional right now. "Come on," she said. "The Viewing Platform is not far from here."

The space station's corridors were completely empty and silent, except for the occasional blaring of the alarm. HK-47's metallic limbs clicked obnoxiously against the cool aluminium floor as they ran, the only sound to disturb the tranquil void.

Abruptly, they entered a huge chamber with a gaping chasm that extended across most of the room. A single thin bridge, unsupported by any visible force, was the only access point to the other side. And waiting for them on that bridge were three Dark Jedi.

"Canderous," Revan said. "Come with me. The rest of you, wait here."

"Don't call me Canderous," the mercenary snapped. "I've told you before, it's Mandalore the Preserver. Or just Mandalore." Nevertheless, he cocked his rifle over his shoulder and followed as she approached the bridge.

"Good of you to come see the fruits of your labour, _my Lord," _the foremost Sith called out facetiously as they drew closer. "So sorry you won't be alive to witness the full extent of this station's power."

Revan reached out with her mind, using the Force to crush the windpipe of the fallen Jedi. His lightsaber clattered to the floor as he clutched desperately at his throat, eyes bulging. His lips moved but no sound came out. Revan pushed harder and was rewarded with a resounding crack. The man collapsed at the feet of his fellow Sith, dead.

"Fight with the Force, worm, not with your tongue," she said matter-of-factly.

"Damn," Mandalore said. "You didn't even give him a chance."

The remaining Sith on the left snarled and thrust out one hand, fingers extended towards Revan. Blue lightning streaked out towards her, and Mandalore called out a warning. Revan saw the danger at the last second, bringing up her extended lightsaber before her protectively. The lightning collided violently with the blade, sending sparks showering everywhere.

Revan ground her teeth from the sheer force of the impact. The blade shook tremendously in her hands, but she held on desperately. "Mercenary," she breathed over her shoulder at him. "Do _something."_

"What?" Mandalore actually sounded perplexed. "Oh, right." He snapped his rifle around and fired at the casting Sith. The gun bucked from the chamber being expelled and threatened to topple the Mandalorian off the bridge. He dropped to his knees to keep his balance.

The streak of white-hot plasma that had been emitted from the rifle struck the corrupted Jedi squarely in the chest and sent him careening off into the dark abyss. His screams followed him down, and they echoed throughout the room for some time afterwards.

The lone remaining twisted Jedi let his lightsaber fall from his grasp and backed up from Revan with both hands held in a warding gesture. When the former Dark Lord of the Sith made no move against him, he turned and bolted away.

"Coward," Mandalore spat. "If these are the types of fools that Malak is employing, then this will be easier than I thought. I'm tempted to go after him and teach him something about wars."

"That is not the Jedi way," Revan said. "Let him go."

Mandalore shrugged. "Maybe it's not _your_ way, but I'm no Jedi."

"This discussion is best saved for another time. Come." They headed back to where the others waited.

"That was kinda brutal, Revan," Carth said. "I guess you still remember the Dark Side, after all."

"The Force is merely a tool," she explained. "It doesn't control me. At the time, it seemed the most effective method to deal with those Dark Jedi."

"Commendation: I thought you performed admirably, Master. The true markings of a killer."

"Enough," Revan said defensively. "I am not a killer. I was simply protecting you as Bastila Shan ordered. I walk the path of a Jedi Guardian, now."

"And yet, you still carry a red lightsaber," Carth pointed out.

"Commander Onasi, this particular lightsaber holds a great deal of personal value to me. If you continue to berate me over the colour of my weapon, then I suggest we part ways now."

Mission shifted on her feet nervously. "This ain't how friends are supposed to behave," she said. Zaalbar chirped in agreement.

"Easy, Revan," Carth said. "I don't honestly believe you're still working with the Sith. I was only speculating."

"Alright, then, it's settled," she finished. "Let's move on." They continued in the direction of the Viewing Platform, Revan lost in her own memories.

She had been tutored initially under the Jedi Master Kreia. Alongside her best friend Alek, they had begun to learn the ways of the Force on Coruscant and at the Jedi Academy on Dantooine. Occasionally, they would visit the Twi'lek Jedi Master Zhar Lestin for additional training, but the elder Jedi noted Revan's peculiar desire for knowledge that could not be quenched. Because of her age, Lestin dismissed Revan's demeanor as pure exuberance and eagerness. Jedi Master Vrook Lamar, however, claimed that she was perhaps _too _eager, and discovered that Revan had indeed sought knowledge about ancient Sith traditions.

They called her the Revanchist at the pinnacle of the Mandalorian Wars. She was perhaps the most enigmatic and charismatic leader the Republic had ever known—a brilliant tactician and expert strategist. She had almost single-handedly ended the conflict with the destruction of Malachor V, and led the remnant of the Republic fleet deep into the Unknown Regions to pursue and eliminate any remaining Mandalorians. She returned with a new, darker identity.

Revan and Malak claimed repeated victories against the Republic, and in the process managed to establish a powerful new Sith Empire. Revan's fleet caused chaos and destruction amidst the Republic, until her betrayal by her own former apprentice.

The same former apprentice she now faced from across the Viewing Platform.

Built near the summit of the Star Forge, the Viewing Platform was used to observe the goings on outside the space station. A metal catwalk extended across the opposite side of the room, right below the massive window that looked out into the vastness of space. Revan could see the Republic fleet gathering in formation in a sector not far off.

Interspersed around the room was an assortment of containment cells. Inside resided the comatose bodies of all the Jedi Malak had captured. Revan could guess the purpose of the cells, and her stomach churned at the thought.

Standing atop the catwalk, hands clasped behind his back, was Darth Malak. He wore skin-tight body armour the colour of dried blood, draped in a cloak of black material. He turned to face them as they entered the room. His head was completely shaved, and the top was adorned with blue tattoos. He wore a large metal shield that extended from his upper lip to where his lower jaw would have been, had he had one.

"Welcome, Revan," the prosthetic Malak wore allowed him to talk, but his voice had a rough electronic tone that was slightly disconcerting. The Dark Lord eyed the others, then. "There's no need for these to interfere." Malak swept one hand nonchalantly to the side and Carth and the others were slammed violently against the wall. The only one left untouched was HK-47. The droid wasn't a danger to Malak. Metal bindings extracted themselves from within hidden slots and wrapped themselves around their wrists and mouths. Malak watched them amusedly for a moment as they struggled, and then turned back to Revan.

"That's better," he said. "Now, where is Bastila Shan?"

"When I get out of here, scum, I'll cut off something else you'll miss dearly." The mouth gag had no effect on Mandalore; the mercenary was still encased inside his helmet and armour.

Malak glared at him for a moment, and then gave an exasperated sigh. "Ah, a Mandalorian," he said. "Still mourning over the loss of Malachor V, are we?" He extended a hand and Force lightning crackled from his fingertips, striking Ordo in the protective casing of his helmet. The Mandalorian grunted and was still.

"Bastila is aboard one of the Republican cruisers," Revan lied. "She awaits your forces with her Battle Meditation."

"Does she, now?" Malak paused. He searched for something in Revan's eyes, but just shook his head. "I suppose it's of no consequence. Your "fleet" will not long survive my onslaught."

Revan cursed herself again. She had been hoping that the prospect of capturing Bastila alive would delay Malak's engagement with the Republic. _Where was Bastila?_

"It has been a long time, my former apprentice," Revan said. "I have but one question. Why did you try to kill me?"

Malak gave her a calculating gaze. "I betrayed you when I realized my own strength was greater than yours," he replied.

"Yet here I stand, and I have been redeemed by the Force. It seems your strength has many faults."

"'Redeemed by the Force.'" Malak sneered. "You cannot hide from what you once were, Revan! Recognize that you were once the Dark Lord, and know that I have taken your place!"

"Hesitant Query: Master, this heap of scrap metal is beginning to annoy me. Might I dispose of him?"

"No, HK," Revan said. "He speaks the truth." She looked down at the lightsaber in her hand. The red blade shone in her eyes. "I cannot deny it any longer."

Malak cackled gleefully. "You see? The Dark Side corrupts all. The time of the Jedi is over. Come and take your place by my side. Together, we shall dominate this galaxy!"

Her boots clacked loudly as she ascended the steps of the catwalk up to where Malak waited. She came and stood next to him as he gestured for her to look out the window. "Witness the death of the Republic."

Four Sith armada capital ships were visible on the viewing screen. Both hanger doors of the space station opened to emit smaller, more agile vessels. There were even a few mid-range bombers. Hundreds of ships, Revan guessed. The Republic fleet didn't stand a chance. She watched alongside Darth Malak as the Sith prepared their assault.

The bond she shared with Bastila pulled at her core then, and she remembered why she was there. She could sense Bastila Shan waiting in the shadows outside the room. Her heart swelled at the thought. Revan spun.

Her lightsaber flashed as she somersaulted backwards in mid-air. She landed deftly on the railing of the catwalk and launched herself at Malak while his back was still turned. The Dark Lord turned around wonderingly, his eyes wide. He managed to bring his blade up just in time to prevent her from cleaving a path straight down his face.

"Well, that ended badly," Malak said as they clashed blades.

"Didn't it, though?" She flashed her best smile at him as sparks flew in all directions. She pushed off him then, jumping backwards over the railing and landing in the middle of the room, lightsaber held at the ready.

Bastila bolted into the Viewing Platform at a dead run, tumbling forward and coming to a ready stance next to Revan. Her golden blade radiated furiously.

"So," Malak began as he started down the stairs at a leisurely pace. "You lied to me. How typical."

He thrust a hand forward once more and lightning streaked through the air, this time headed straight for Bastila. The Jedi Sentinel tried to bring her blade around to deflect it, but she was too late. She screamed as it made contact with the thin fabric of her clothing and she was thrown backward out of the room.

Malak made an odd, electronic clicking sound. "That is but a taste of the Dark Side to whet your appetite," he said.

Revan had made to push Bastila out of the way, but she had been too late. Now she turned back to the Dark Lord and gritted her teeth angrily. "You'll pay immensely for that, Malak. If you've hurt her—"

"You'll what?" Malak cut her off. "Spend more time talking to me? Spare me, please. And now…we duel!"

He charged her furiously, attacking her with a relentless series of strikes. It was all she could do to parry him as he danced around her. The Dark Lord's black cloak swirled in a murky pattern as they fought. Malak slammed into her with sheer blunt force, causing her lightsaber to tremble violently in her hands as he railed into her.

Malak uppercut her with a swift stroke, and she barely managed to block it, having to bring her lightsaber above her head in an awkward angle. While she was distracted, Malak brought his knee up and delivered a crushing blow into her abdomen. She bent double, reeling from the pain.

"You're getting slow, Master," Malak taunted her. "Are you still quite certain the Jedi know everything?"

Revan managed to regain her balance and faced Malak with every ounce of her being shining like a beacon. She could feel her heartbeat against her chest, and she was breathing rather heavily. "No," she replied. "Not everything, no."

Revan held her lightsaber up even to her line of sight and activated the other side. Now, two crimson blades of energy sparked out from the hilt. "They didn't teach me this," she answered.

The two had changed roles in the blink of an eye. Revan performed a series of cartwheels and flips as she twirled her lightsaber in her advance against the Dark Lord. Malak's eyes were wild as she clashed against him. It took everything he had to counter her offensive. There was no moment for him to attack; he was purely defending. Again and again Revan exploded in a series of damaging blows. Beads of sweat coated the Dark Lord's brow.

Suddenly, Revan was rewarded with a grunt from Malak. She had succeeded in scoring a blow against the Dark Lord. A thin red gash extended across his rib cage. Malak touched his wound and held his fingers up before his eyes. The blood was clearly noticeable.

"Lucky blow," he said slowly. "However, unlike you, I cannot be defeated."

The Dark Lord retreated to one of the containment cells at the far side of the room. The Jedi inside slumbered deeply, bound within his mental prison. "You made a mistake coming here, Revan," Malak said. "The Star Forge fuels my command of the Dark Side. You are no match for me here. And this time, you will not escape!"

Abruptly, orange light blazed from Malak's fingertips and snaked through the air, coming in contact with the glass exterior of the cell. The Jedi inside began to change. His clothes began to deteriorate noticeably and his body slowly withered away. Malak closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he accumulated the life force of the dying Jedi. When he dropped his hand, the light finally extinguished, nothing remained of the Jedi but a few tattered scraps of clothing gathered at the bottom of the cell. Looking closer, Revan saw that the cut across Malak's ribs had mysteriously healed itself.

"The life drain is enough to sustain me," Malak said. "And it serves to bolster my affinity with the Force."

"Is that so?" Revan replied. She was smirking at him. "In that case…" Revan reached out with the Force, focusing her attention on the mass of cables that powered the containment vessels. She pulled with all her might and the cables broke free of the wall. Without the power drawn from the Star Forge, the Jedi inside the cells would soon die from lack of life support.

Malak stood and watched her. She had the impression his mouth would have been open to shout defiance at her, had he still had a mouth. "You dare toy with me, Revan?" The Dark Lord actually stamped his foot at her. "I am the Dark Lord of the Sith!"

Revan heard a sound behind her. Bastila had regained consciousness and was back at her side. "Is your Battle Meditation ready?" Revan asked her. "The fleet does not have much time."

"I tapped into that part of my mind a few minutes ago," Bastila said. She cocked her head at Revan. "Didn't you notice?"

Revan smiled at her. She thought she might be in love with this girl. But here was not the time or place for that. Glancing out the viewing window, she saw that the Sith fleet had broken formation and was venturing off in several different directions. The Republic fleet had not made a move against them.

"Should we kill him, then?" Bastila asked her. Her lightsaber hung casually at her side.

"Yes, I think so," she answered.

Malak laughed then. It started as a low electronic rumbling sound, but steadily progressed louder and louder until the walls reverberated with his cacophonous laughter.

"The Force grows within me," he said. Abruptly, a shimmering portal sparked into existence right next to the Dark Lord. Revan had never known there were so many colours, and such an infinite spectrum of light. "This isn't over," Malak said. He turned and vanished through the mystical gateway.

"What…is that?" Bastila nearly balked at her.

"I don't know," she replied. "But we can't let him escape. Come on, let's free the others."

"We're here," Carth's voice sounded behind her. She turned and there they all were, facing her and Bastila. "Malak must have held the bonds with the Force. They released us once he was gone."

"Are we really going through that thing?" Mission sounded frightened.

"We don't really have a choice," Revan said. "The Republic fleet will soon destroy this station."

"Statement: I think I'd rather stay here and take my chances, Master."

"No, HK, you're coming with us. All of us must go." Revan turned back to face the portal.

"Well, if we die, at least it won't be in a fiery explosion," Mandalore said.

Revan almost smiled again. Something brushed against her hand. Looking down, she was surprised to see that Bastila had wrapped her fingers around her own. She did smile then.

Together, hand in hand, the two Jedi stepped through the portal, followed by the oddest travelling companions that could be found this side of the galaxy.

**_*****_**

**_Author's Note: Comments, questions, praise, critique? ~ Denmar_**


	2. Chapter One: Meeting

**_Author's Note: This chapter was rather irritating for me, for some reason. I don't know if I like it or not. Still, it's part of the story, and needs to be told._**

**DISCLAIMER: This is the only disclaimer I shall make. If you recognize it, it's not mine. If you don't, it is. The end. **

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**Chapter One**

**Meeting**

**Present Day**

**Abydos**

Thirty-six hours was a long time to wait, and right now, Skaara was feeling every moment of it weighing down on him like a hammer. The cartouche he was studying in the confined chamber was intrinsic. And old. Very old. Some of the paint was scratched and fading fast from the wall. He could barely make out the archaic depiction. He had to squint his eyes before he could decipher the lines of what appeared to be lightning descending from the heavens and striking the pyramid. Little stick figures gathered around the perimeter of the structure, arms outstretched in what he guessed was defiance. The background of the painting was smudged and blackened; a great shadow loomed over everything.

Skaara planted the torch he carried into the coarse sand and moved closer to the drawing, running a hand across the cool, slick cave wall. He turned his head slightly to one side, speaking over his shoulder. "This is the one," he said. "I'm sure of it. Now, we wait."

The woman that was with him plopped down against the cartouche, clearly exhausted. She was young, and handsome rather than beautiful, with a plump face and dark eyes. She wrapped the folds of her clothes tighter around herself and shivered, despite the heat. "Skaara, will you at least tell me what we are doing here?"

"I had a dream," he said bluntly. "A vision. Something comes this day. The cartouche—" he gestured at the painting, "—is proof."

"Proof?" She rolled her eyes at him. "Proof of what? That the pyramid will be struck by lightning? We have more important matters."

Rivulets of sweat ran down his face and the flames from the torch cast shadows across his figure. "You know we cannot go outside," he said. "It is too dangerous. We must wait for Kasuf. He will be here after nightfall."

"Father thinks you're crazy, dear brother. This will not long hold his attention."

"It will, Sha're. The fate of our people will reveal itself. You will see. It has already begun. O'Neill will come."

"That is the second time you have mentioned him. Is _he _the reason for this? Your great Prophet? Did he cause that?" She pointed at the lightning.

Skaara eyed the cartouche for a moment and chewed his lower lip. "No," he said finally. "That will be the doing of another."

Sha're threw her hands up in the air. "Well, I do not see why you think O'Neill will come to Abydos. I have not heard from my Dan-jel in some time."

"Daniel is not with him," Skaara said abruptly. "He is…somewhere else." He waved his hand vaguely.

"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow. "Was that in your dream too?"

"Yes," he said simply. He picked up a stick from the ground and started doodling idly in the sand. Waiting.

Skaara and Sha're, along with their fellow Abydosians, had known nothing of freedom before the Tau'ri had come to their planet. The entire population had been subjugated under the tyrannical reign of the Sun God, Ra. The desert planet was in a backdrop part of the galaxy, and would have gone entirely unnoticed but for its immense supply of naquadah. It was the most precious mineral in the galaxy, having been used by the Ancients in the building of the Stargates and it was strongly coveted by the Goa'uld. As such, Ra made the people of Abydos his slaves, forcing them to mine the priceless metal.

Then one day, visitors arrived through the Stargate. Skaara and his people had thought they had been sent by the Sun God, and welcomed them into their civilization as esteemed guests. Kasuf had presented Sha're to the one called Daniel Jackson as a welcoming gift. The two had been married in the village.

Ra descended from the heavens on his great ship. Skaara had thought the Sun God would be pleased with the supply of naquadah they had mined, but instead, he fumed with anger and punished his people for helping the newcomers. Many Abydosians died that day.

The strangers were taken captive by Ra's guards and coerced inside the ship. Daniel was forced to execute his friends, and threatened with a painful death should he refuse. He turned on Ra at the last moment, and they managed to escape and plot their retribution.

Jack O'Neill claimed that they had brought with them a weapon that could eliminate their God once and for all. But first, they had to convince the rest of the village that Ra was not a deity.

O'Neill instigated a brief squabble with one of Ra's disciples, in which the Horus Guard was killed by a blast from a staff weapon. Kasuf had to face the truth and prepare his people for rebellion.

They waited and watched for the opportune moment. Jackson and O'Neill headed back to the Stargate where their weapon lay. They were ambushed by Jaffa who intended to amplify the bomb's magnitude with a shipment of naquadah that they would then send through the Stargate back to Earth. After an intense struggle, O'Neill emerged the victor and managed to transport the bomb aboard Ra's ship as he was in orbit above the planet. The great Sun God was no more, and the people of Abydos rejoiced.

O'Neill returned to Earth with his friends. Jackson chose to remain on Abydos with his wife, whom he now had feelings for. The galaxy was at peace. For a time, at least.

O'Neill returned a year later through the Stargate, at the head of a new band of travelers. He claimed that Ra had attacked Earth via the Stargate, and had come to investigate. Daniel took them to the cartouche and explained that the Stargate could go other places _besides_ Abydos—that there were indeed gates seeded all over the galaxy. The attack on Earth could have originated from anywhere.

Ra then arrived through the Stargate. Only, it _wasn't _the Sun God, but his brother, Apophis. The Serpent God had abducted Sha're and taken her through the Stargate. Skaara did not hear from his sister for three years.

Then, two years ago, Skaara had been on his way to the very caverns in which he and his sister now sat. There was a furious sandstorm on the horizon, and he had to find shelter fast. His mastadge, despite the creature's adaptation to the heat of the planet, was exhausted and probably would have dropped dead were it not for Skaara's sheer determination. Suddenly, a low humming broke through the wind. He swept his eyes upward, diverting them from the harsh rays of the sun. A ship descended, smaller than the vessel Ra had used. A scouting ship, perhaps. It was definitely of Goa'uld design. It landed atop a sand drift not far from where the boy sat astride his mastadge. Despite his previous experience with the Goa'uld, Skaara was more concerned with the weather, and turned his mount towards the tel'tak.

It had an oddly triangular shape, but Skaara was pleased to note that it seemed to bear no weapon cannons. There was a large viewing window in the forward section of the ship, but the visor was closed and Skaara could not see inside. A ramp descended with a sharp hissing sound as he approached, and Jack O'Neill sauntered out, followed by the other members of SG-1. They had brought his sister back to Abydos.

Sha're would not mention what had happened to her in the long months she had been away, but whenever anyone in the village spoke of Ra or the Goa'uld, she would make an odd growling sound and leave the room in a huff.

Abruptly, footsteps sounded in the narrow hallway formation that led to the chamber in which they sat. A light flickered on one wall as their father, Kasuf, bowed his way inside the cramped room. He dusted off his robes with one hand and fumed at them, waving his torch emphatically. "It was very foolish of you to come here, son. The desert is not safe."

"We waited until nightfall, father," Skaara said. "The sun would have destroyed us, otherwise."

Sha're rose to her feet. "Now, father," she began. "Tell him that he is crazy so we can return to the village."

Kasuf merely looked at her. "Crazy? I just said he was foolish for going outside."

"Yes, but, what about this?" She gestured at the cartouche.

"I had a dream," Skaara started to explain.

Kasuf held up a hand for him to pause. "Yes, I know, son."

Skaara gaped at him. "You d-do?" He stammered.

"Yes," Kasuf said. "I heard a whisper on the wind. A voice spoke to me. You are not crazy, Skaara. We have to make for the pyramid, now, before the sun rises."

"Was it Daniel?" Skaara nearly leaped up. "Daniel Jackson? I knew he was not dead!"

Kasuf gave him a quizzical look but didn't reply. Sha're blanched at her brother. "Dead? What are you talking about? Where is my Dan-jel?"

Skaara dropped his eyes to his feet and shifted a rock over with his foot. "I should not have said anything," he muttered.

"Tell me, Skaara!" Sha're pleaded.

"Enough!" Kasuf shouted loudly enough to cause them both to give a start. "There is little time. We must go _now!"_

Skaara rolled his eyes at his sister and she made as if to hit him. He dodged away from her playfully and snatched his torch from the sand. Laughing, the boy followed his father out into the night. Sha're stormed after.

**Yesterday**

**Vorash**

The Tok'ra had established a base on Vorash some time ago. As was custom with their species, they immediately moved underground, creating an extensive network of tunnels. These crystalline tunnels served as the Tok'ra's base of command during their rebellion against the Goa'uld.

The tunnel network was completely underground, with no visible entry or exit point. The only way inside the Tok'ra base was through the use of the ring platform on the planet's surface.

Various shapes and sizes of crystals went along in the production of the tunnels. Some created long, narrow hallways, while others expanded into accommodating rooms. The tunnels were capable of self-destructing upon command, as had been done in the past. The Tok'ra had had to change their base of operations several times to prevent being discovered by the Goa'uld.

The council chamber was immense and gave off the distinct impression of an igloo. Jack O'Neill shivered slightly as he danced anxiously back and forth on his feet, facing the six humans that sat around the ornate table on the dais before him. He reached absently inside his vest pocket, and then remembered he had pawned his last cigarette off to that Irons kid. Goddamnit.

He glanced to his side to help break the awkward tension. Teal'c was completely stolid, hands clasped firmly behind his back. The Jaffa did not blink or turn his head, but his eyes shifted in O'Neill's direction when he noticed the latter looking at him.

"You seem nervous, O'Neill," Teal'c almost smiled. Almost.

"Do I?" Jack puffed out his cheeks and sighed. "I hadn't noticed."

"It has only been a few minutes," Teal'c said. "I am certain Major Carter will return momentarily."

Jack looked at the Jaffa sharply. "I wasn't thinking about Carter, Teal'c. For your information, I was wondering what these Goa'uld are going to decide. And I have been considering a nice egg salad sandwich once we get back to the SGC."

"We are _not _Goa'uld!" One of the humans spoke from her high-backed chair behind the table. Well, human _host. _She was, in fact, a Tok'ra. "I have told you before, Colonel O'Neill. We do not forcibly take hosts. Our relationship with humans is truly symbiotic in nature."

"You know," Jack said, "I might start to like you a little better if you didn't shout at me and do the glowy eye thing."

The Tok'ra merely looked at him serenely for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice had changed. The host was free to speak at will, or so they had been informed. "My apologies, Colonel." She rose from the table and walked around to get a better look at him. "You simply do not know our ways, but Garshaw can become quite heated when provoked."

"Garshaw?" He asked.

The woman smiled at him. "My symbiote. I am called Yosuf. Garshaw of Belote is perhaps the most hunted Tok'ra of all time. I am proud to share my physical body with someone of her stature."

"I'm thrilled for you," Jack said. "Have your friends there finished their brunch?"

She eyed him levelly for a moment before returning to her seat at the table. She cleared her throat and placed both hands flat on the table's surface. "This council acknowledges the friendship between the Tau'ri and the Abydosian peoples. However—"

Jack clicked his tongue and punched the air, slightly irritated. "I _knew _that was coming," he interrupted.

Garshaw glared at him, as did all the council members gathered around the table. "However," she began again. "We have concluded that the risk is too great to send more Tok'ra needlessly to their deaths. We will not interfere."

O'Neill was thoroughly pissed off. "Do you people not understand what we're talking about here? You have the capability to change things!"

"We do not—"

"THOSE PEOPLE ARE GOING TO DIE IF YOU DON'T _DO _SOMETHING!" Jack wasn't aware of taking a step towards the table, but he could clearly feel Teal'c's monstrous grip on his arm, restraining him.

"O'Neill," the Jaffa said. "Remain calm."

Jack could feel sweat dripping down his back and his shirt was clinging to him. He had always found that quite revolting. "Where's Carter?" He asked the much larger alien. "We're leaving."

The Jaffa released him. "I do not know where Samantha Carter is," he replied.

O'Neill didn't hear him. One of the council members had risen from the table and stood regally, unflinching. He had a long, narrow face and his blond hair was slicked back and oiled. Garshaw spoke from her seat. "The council recognizes Supreme High Councilor Per'sus."

Nobody besides O'Neill would have noted the irony that the High Councilor's eyes glowed before he spoke. "Colonel Jack O'Neill of the Tau'ri. Your actions before this council have negated the Earth-Tok'ra alliance. You and your men will be escorted to the ring platform, from whence you may find your own way. This session is concluded."

"Not yet," a male voice resonated from the corridor behind Teal'c and O'Neill. Jack turned in surprise. Jacob Carter had entered the room, accompanied by his daughter, Sam.

O'Neill nudged her with his elbow. "What took you guys so long?" He whispered.

"I'll tell you about it later," she said.

Garshaw looked aghast. "Selmak? What is this? Come take your seat on the council."

Jacob shook his head, but the symbiote spoke through his lips. "Actually, I am quite inclined to stand right here, if you don't mind."

Garshaw gaped at him. "You would side with these bunglers over your own kind? These traitors that are so disgusted by the very thought of the blending?"

"You're not going to win me over by insulting my daughter and my friends," Jacob said coolly.

Garshaw opened her mouth again, but Per'sus cut her off. "Fine," the Supreme Councilor said. "Go then. But I know what you intend. Abydos is not safe."

"We've been through worse," Jack said. He turned and departed from the room. Teal'c and Sam went after him, but Jacob remained for a moment.

Per'sus and Selmak matched stares for a moment, and then Jacob Carter was gone, leaving the council members to their own fate. Per'sus let his eyes linger on for a second longer, rolling O'Neill's words over in his mind.

"We shall see," the Tok'ra whispered, barely audible. "We shall see."

**Time and Location Unknown**

"Daniel, could you come here, please?"

Jackson opened his eyes and then shut them again with a grunt. The curtains had been thrown back to let in the first glinting rays of sunlight. Birdsong drifted in from outside. He had the bird pictured in his head, but he couldn't recall the name to save his life. Why couldn't he recall the name?

He slid his eyes open more slowly this time and looked around. He was rather astounded to see that he was lying in a four poster bed. He managed to prop himself up on his elbows, throwing aside the covers. A rather handsome fellow looked back at him from within the mirror across the room. _Glasses. _The thought was there and gone in a flash. He didn't need glasses. He could see perfectly fine.

He rose out of the bed and walked over to the mirror, studying his reflection. His blue eyes were rather keen and piercing. Fresh stubble stuck out on his face. His clothes were silky and white. He yawned and looked down.

A chest of drawers sat on the floor in front of him, pushed up against the mirror haphazardly. He could have sworn the carpet had been bare a second ago. Maybe he was just tired.

There was a small object on the polished wood surface. He picked it up and held it up before his eyes curiously. He turned it over in his fingers, searching for the word he knew was there. Pyramid. It finally came to him. He put the small figure back on the chest and sighed.

"Daniel?" The honey-sweet voice called again.

Daniel? Was that his name? He couldn't remember. He furrowed his eyebrows in thought for a second, but nothing came. "Be there in a moment!" He answered anyway.

The door was rather plain, but it looked like it was freshly carved and sanded. It wasn't even painted. The round bronze handle warmed slightly at his touch. That was odd, he thought to himself. He twisted the handle and pulled the door open. It didn't even creak.

The delectable aroma of bacon mixed with a subtle hint of coffee met his nostrils as he started down the hallway. He felt like he should know this house, but the details eluded his memory.

The kitchen floor was a harsh contrast to the long haired carpeting he had been enjoying, and he shivered slightly. The sun was coming in fully now, casting bright rays across the room. A woman stood with her back turned to him, bent over her work at the sink. Her clothes were of the same make as his, and her auburn hair shone from the radiant sunlight.

"Oma," the word felt strange on his tongue. He had no idea where he had procured it from.

The woman jumped slightly and spun to face him, drying her hands off with a towel. She had an ageless face and a welcoming smile. "Darling, there you are!" Her smile widened significantly, showing sparkling teeth. "I've made you breakfast," she gestured at the table that he could have sworn had not been there a moment ago. There was a plate of eggs and bacon waiting for him. She walked over and pulled out the lone chair slightly. "Please, sit down."

The woman he had called Oma returned to the sink, busying herself with dishes. He snatched a piece of toast absently and nibbled on it, attempting to sort out his thoughts. _Toast? _He _knew _there had not been toast on the table.

"Where are we?" He asked suddenly.

"What are you talking about, goof?" She spoke over her shoulder. "We're home."

Daniel set the toast down and picked up his fork, twirling it between his fingers. "Home. Why can't I remember who I am?"

Oma came over and sat at the table beside him. "Well, I expect, because you were so drunk last night. I had to carry you to bed."

Daniel wasn't listening. His fork clattered to the plate and he was on his feet in a flash. "That chair wasn't there before."

Oma laughed at him. "Of course it was, you great buffoon! What are you on about?"

"I…I don't know." Suddenly, he wasn't sure of anything anymore. And then there was pain. Real pain. Blazing pain. He shrieked and bent over double, clawing at his face. It felt like red hot pokers were being inserted into his eyes. And there was light. And flashes. And silence. Daniel regained his balance and stood facing her, breathing heavily.

Oma had not flinched the entire time. She sat there, hands folded on the table, calmly gazing up at him.

"Oma Desala," Daniel said. "Why am I here?"

She sighed exuberantly and bowed her head. "Because you would have died otherwise. You were too stubborn in the end to face ascension, and you are far too valuable to lose."

"You forced me? I thought that was against the rules."

"True, but you left me little choice. The Others would not understand. They do not know you are here."

"Well, undo it," he said. "De-ascend me. I have to stop Anubis."

"I cannot," she replied.

"Bullshit," he cut across her. "You just don't want to."

"True, again. You cannot stop Anubis as you were."

"Well, I can't do it like this. You would prevent me from doing so yourself."

"Probably, yes." She stood to face him eye-to-eye. "But the people of Abydos face another threat. Indeed, two."

Daniel raised an eyebrow at her. "What are _you _on about?"

"Hold out your hand," Oma said. "I will show you."

He was hesitant, but did as he was told. Gingerly, he touched her fingertips with his own. He felt his feet lurch forward, and his stomach heaved.

Stars and galaxies wheeled overhead and below. Darkness was ever-present, ever-lurking. He was on a different plane, in a non corporeal form. Energy. His physical body had been shed to be replaced by one less encumbersome.

Directly beneath him, a red and brown desert planet dwelled in quiet existence, flanked by its three moons. Abydos. Daniel let his body drift downward towards the planet's surface.

The pyramid was just as he remembered it, with the exception of the bodies piled all around the entrance. The bodies of slain Abydosians. He swept among and over them, a silent and omnipresent ghost. He recognized one face amidst the horror and blood. Skaara.

Inside the pyramid stood a lone figure. His back was turned to Daniel. His clothing was conformed to his body, and knitted in various shades of red and brown. A dark cloak was draped majestically over his shoulders. His head was completely shaven, and odd blue tattoos were painted on his skull.

Before Daniel could draw closer, a circular opening revealed itself in the ceiling with a sharp hiss and five rings descended, stacking themselves and forming a perimeter around the stranger. There was a burst of light and he vanished within the transportation device. The rings departed back to their point of origin.

Abruptly, the earth trembled and the pyramid exploded. There was light and fire everywhere. Daniel was in a raging pool of hellfire. And then…blackness.

He pulled his hand back and grasped the back of the chair to keep upright. "What was that at the end?"

Oma looked at him sharply. "Abydos's star is about to supernova. It will consume the planet and destroy the population."

"And the man?" Daniel took a breath. "Who was he?"

Oma gripped him firmly on the shoulder and forced him to look at her. "Listen closely, now. Two universes are about to collide. When that happens, you _must _be there. You were just witness to the alternative."

"Two…_what?"_

"I won't be able to come with you," she said. "The Others would know."

"And should I save the people of Abydos? What about Anubis?"

Oma didn't answer him. Daniel moved to the door.

Finally, she spoke. "You know I will have to stop you," she began. "Should it come to that."

"I know," he replied. The door slammed shut behind him.

*********

**_Author's Note: Comments, questions, praise, critique?_**


	3. Chapter Two: Beyond the Void

**_Author's Note: Meh, I'm exhausted. Nearly six hours straight of writing produced this. XD I hope you guys enjoy it._**

**_* Jonas Quinn: I hate him. Teh end. Arrogant prat. I invented Montgomery Irons to make up for the lack of Jonas. My first OC that's human. Yay!_**

**_Sidenote: I grew tired of saying "The doors hissed open" over and over again, so I just use the sound-effect "Whoosh". It sounded slightly less cheesy than "Hiss". Hoping that clears that up. _**

**_____**

**Chapter Two**

**Beyond the Void**

**Present Day**

**Hyperspace, En Route To Abydos**

Lieutenant Colonel Montgomery Irons cursed under his breath and snubbed his cigarette in the ashtray, throwing his cards down on the table. An hour ago, he wouldn't have fathomed that he'd be sitting here playing poker with Colonel O'Neill as they were about to undertake a full-scale planetary rescue mission. But times were strange.

He cursed again, louder this time, and combed his fingers back through his lanky ginger hair. O'Neill shot his eyes upward at the disturbance, the brown meeting the green for one frozen moment. Then the tension eased slightly, and the wrinkles that lined the corners of the Colonel's eyes didn't seem as harsh as they had been a second ago. Still…

"Language, Irons," O'Neill said quietly. "You keep that up, I'm afraid I won't be able to give you any more cigarettes."

"Sorry, sir."

"You should be thankful. At least we aren't playing for money." O'Neill almost smiled.

"What _did _you say to the Tok'ra to piss them off so much, Colonel?"

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," O'Neill waved his hand vaguely. He sat up taller in his chair. "Basically, they think it's a suicide mission and don't want anything to do with us."

"You think they're wrong, sir?"

"Oh, I didn't say that." O'Neill gave him a meaningful look. "But, it's not like I have anything better to do with my time…"

Jack didn't much care for the younger man sitting opposite him. He was arrogant, annoying. Flamboyant. Had a nasty habit of insulting the wrong kind of people. Irons reminded him a lot of himself.

Montgomery Irons was the last surviving member of SG-27, one of the Russian teams. He had been born elsewhere, though. O'Neill could tell. The kid didn't look the least bit Soviet. However, when questioned about his heritage, Irons would only offer the usual short-answered "Europe" and ignore further attempts to delve into his past. O'Neill had long since learned to let the matter drop. It wasn't any of his business.

The kid spoke fluent English, thank God for that. Jack didn't have the patience to put up with a translator. More than likely, he would have ended up shooting the man before he could be killed in the line of duty. Yes, thank God for fucking English.

The cargo hold of the tel'tak was deserted but for the two of them and the makeshift table they had erected. Their two chairs were the only other furnishings in the room. The ring platform rested in its grooves on the floor. Golden scrollwork—an obscure dialect of Egyptian hieroglyphs—adorned the walls.

"It's high time for us to be there, Colonel, don't you think?"

O'Neill blinked but did not reply. He merely looked into the other's eyes for a long moment, brought out of his reverie. Jack could tell it unnerved him a little bit; he fidgeted slightly in his chair and looked away.

The truth of the matter was that O'Neill had not revealed their destination to the younger officer. Long years in the field and a string of broken trust had invoked a "need-to-know" basis attitude in the Colonel. True, Irons knew fully well that it was a rescue mission, but that had been the extent of O'Neill's generosity with the outsider. Irons had not pressed him for details or the location, and Jack had not offered either.

O'Neill spared a glance for the dying embers of the cigarette butt in the ashtray before he replied. He was just being paranoid, he told himself. It wasn't so far-fetched a thing to ask. Just as innocent as "Are we there yet?"

"You'd have to talk to Carter about that, Lieutenant. I have no idea how fast we're traveling."

Irons nodded as if to himself and gathered all the cards off the table, tearing open the velcro on the front of his vest and pocketing the deck. "I don't suppose you have another cigarette?"

"That was my last one. But I'm pretty sure that Teal'c mentioned something about a Speedway not far from here."

Irons smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Still, at least they were green, and not black. Black eyes always made him uncomfortable.

Just then, the double doors slid open with a sharp hiss and Major Samantha Carter entered the room. Jack thought she looked exceptionally beautiful today, what with the way her face glowed and how her uniform illuminated every contour of her b—He caught himself then. _She's your under-officer, _he reprimanded himself. Their relationship was strictly professional.

"Colonel O'Neill, we've reached the system," she said.

"How was the trip?" he asked casually.

"Exceptionally interesting, sir. I've been making some adjustments to the hyperdrive, and managed to calibrate it so we can travel much faster than before."

"Really?" he was honestly intrigued.

"No. Sorry, sir." She smiled slightly and left the room.

The ship was not moving, yet Teal'c had not turned away from the control console. Jack imagined that the Jaffa would stop breathing if that was O'Neill's wish. Carter took her seat in the co-pilot's chair, and O'Neill stood behind her, gazing out of the viewing window. Irons lingered in the background.

"Teal'c," O'Neill greeted him. "Long time no see."

The Jaffa acknowledged him with barely a turn of his head. "O'Neill."

"That's Abydos," Irons broke in suddenly.

Jack turned to him. The other man had cocked an eyebrow. His expression seemed to be genuine. "Indeed it is. Well done."

The desert planet floated outside of the viewing screen flanked by its trio of moons, hundreds of thousands of miles from their current position. The yellow star looked innocent enough, with nothing to show any malcontent.

"Sir," Carter said. "Anubis is already here."

She poked at a few controls and the viewing screen turned black, with a vertical line descending down the center. On the left panel was depicted the exterior of a formidable looking warship in orbit around Abydos. On the right were blueprints of the same vessel.

"Wow," Jack said. "Now _that's _a spaceship!"

"Daniel appeared and told you to protect the Eye of Ra. He said Anubis wanted it. I think I know why."

She gestured at the ship while she spoke. "This isn't like a normal Goa'uld mothership. There's no pyramid on the top. See the dome, sir? Look at the blueprints."

He studied them for a minute. "What am I supposed to be seeing, Carter?"

"It's a weapon. A superweapon. When activated, the dome rises and extends into a flower pattern—the petals of which serve as emitters for the blast wave."

O'Neill continued to look at the prints. "How the hell can you see that?"

She cut across him. "The point is, sir, that the weapon isn't active yet. Anubis needs the Eye of Ra."

"So where is it?"

"Colonel, Ra used to dock his ship here, on this planet. I believe that the Eye, whatever it is, is inside the pyramid. It only makes sense."

"I agree with Major Carter," Teal'c said. "If the Eye of Ra is here, we should secure the pyramid against Anubis."

Jack chewed his lip for a moment. "Look, Daniel thought a lot of things. I don't know if we should rush into this."

"You should." Irons gave a yelp of surprise, but it was not he who had spoken. Jack closed his eyes and turned on the spot. When he opened them, Daniel Jackson stood in their midst, enshrouded in a white cloak. He had a faint glowing aura about him. And his glasses were absent.

"Daniel," O'Neill's tone could have suggested he was talking about the weather.

"Hello, Jack. Teal'c. Sam." He nodded and smiled at all of them. "I'm afraid we haven't met," he said to Irons.

"Lieutenant Colonel Montgomery Irons, SG-27. I know all about you, Dr. Jackson."

"No, you misunderstood me. I know who you are, Lieutenant. I only said we'd never met. Living on a higher plane of existence does have its privileges."

"Daniel," O'Neill said again. "Why are you here?"

"I've been here, actually, you just couldn't see me." They stared at him. "Uh, more to the point, I've been watching you—"

"That's not creepy," Jack said.

"—and trying to guide you. You do need to get inside the pyramid. Sam hasn't mentioned it, but Anubis's flagship is centered directly above the ring platform on the planet's surface, meaning—"

"We'll have to fly under it."

"—yes, thank you, Jack. Please stop interrupting me."

"But it's fun!"

"Shut up."

"I'm your commanding officer, Daniel."

"I'm a civilian, actually. And I'm dead. Well…in a manner of speaking. Anyways…"

"Daniel Jackson is correct, O'Neill. We will have to venture extremely close to Anubis's flagship in order to use the transport rings."

"Thank you, Teal'c. See, Daniel? At least _he's _helpful."

Teal'c's back was still turned to the rest of them, but O'Neill would have bet good money that the Jaffa was smiling.

"Teal'c, I order you to navigate this ship directly over the ring platform on Abydos." He placed a sarcastic emphasis on the word "order". "We are cloaked, aren't we?"

"Yes, sir," Carter said. "They would have detected us the moment we dropped out of hyperspace, otherwise."

"Jack? May I have a word? In private?"

O'Neill followed the ethereal figure of Daniel past the quizzical Irons and into the cargo hold. The doors hissed closed behind them.

"What is it, Daniel?"

"Two things, actually."

"Oh, really? How exciting." Jack's tone belied his words.

"First, why didn't you bring Jacob?"

"What? He went back to the SGC. He wanted to tell General Hammond about this."

"You don't think he should be here? It's dangerous. Sam could die."

"I know that, Daniel. We could all die. What are you getting at?"

"Nothing, Jack, I just thought you would have persuaded him a bit better."

"That's not my job," Jack glared at him. "I've got my mission, and Jacob Carter—Selmak—has his."

"I see. As for the other matter—Irons."

"What about him?" Jack snapped.

"He's not who he says he is."

"He's not Montgomery Irons?"

"He's a Goa'uld. I'm pretty sure he is, at least."

"Well, that's unhealthy of him. What do you propose I do about it, Daniel?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"YES, Jack, nothing! I'll take care of it myself when the time comes."

"I thought you couldn't do that." Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Things have changed. But for now, you need him."

"Need him? I don't need a goddamned snake-head on my team! Tell me why I shouldn't go out there and pump him full of lead right now."

"I'm asking you to trust me, Jack. For once in your life, trust me!"

O'Neill sighed. He and Daniel had been through a lot, they all had, and he had no reason to throw suspicion upon his long-time friend. "Alright, Daniel, but it had better be damned well worth it!"

O'Neill turned to go. He was almost to the doors when—

"Good luck, Jack."

He turned back, but there was a brief flash of light and Daniel had gone.

_Whoosh. _

Irons was eyeing him curiously, but Jack paid him no mind. He approached Carter and Teal'c. The former turned to him.

"Sir, we're in orbit directly over the pyramid. We should be able to ring down from here."

"Good job, Teal'c. Irons, Carter, strap up and head back to the rings. I want a word with Teal'c."

The two did as he said and hurried out of the room. O'Neill waited for the trademark hiss before addressing the Jaffa. "Teal'c. Look at me."

The Jaffa spun around in his chair and rose to face him. His expression was unreadable.

"How do you feel about Irons?"

"O'Neill? He is a capable soldier. Not unlike yourself, if I may be so bold. He is young, but he is promising."

"Yes, but, do you get a vibe off him?"

"Colonel O'Neill? I am afraid I do not understand."

Jack sighed resignedly. "Nevermind. Come on."

_Whoosh._

"Carter, remind me what this thing does again."

The Major looked up from her rucksack, strapping a belt of grenades around her waist and holstering a pistol at her ankle. "Sir?"

O'Neill gestured at the floor. "The ring things."

"Well, this set of rings will dematerialize us at the molecular level, warp us into a matter stream, and rematerialize us once we have reached the connected platform."

"I can't wait," Jack said.

She smiled at him.

**Anubis****'****s flagship**

Herak lay prostrate on the marble floor, his forehead kissing the cold surface, both arms extended forward in servitude, waiting for his master's response. The tel'tak would not have been spotted by ordinary ha'tak sensors, but this flagship was superior in every way. However, despite his protests, Anubis had ordered them not to fire on the small ship, instead concentrating their efforts on the recovery of the Eye.

"Have you secured the prisoner?" The voice was high and cruel, distorted behind the mask which served as a shield.

"Yes, my lord," Herak addressed the floor.

"You have done well, my First Prime. You shall be rewarded, yet. But still…double your efforts. I _want _that Eye. I want you to make an example of a Jaffa for every hour lost."

"Yes, my lord."

"Rise."

The pel'tak of the mothership was ornate, almost a palace. The walls were carved in gold, and ebony statues of Anubis flanked the only entrance into the room. A viewing window dominated one side of the room; a control computer sat before it. On a small platform before Herak sat the imposing figure of his God, Anubis. Shrouded entirely in black, with his face masked, the Goa'uld dominated all.

"My lord, if I may be so bold…"

Anubis raised no objection, and Herak wasn't dead, so after a moment he went on. "…why have you not destroyed the tel'tak?"

"It is of no consequence," Anubis said. "Once the Eye is mine, this vessel will reign supreme over the entire galaxy. Whoever is aboard that ship matters little."

"But my lord, SG-1—"

"If it is indeed the infamous Tau'ri, then they will be destroyed along with everyone else on Abydos. I do not wish to speak of this any further."

Herak knew when to keep his mouth shut. To press the matter further would be downright suicide.

"Now, the prisoner…" Anubis trailed a thin golden chain that encircled his neck with his gloved fingers.

Herak hesitated. It wasn't a direct question, but he took the risk. "We have transferred him to one of the more secure holding cells, my lord. He was armed only with this."

Herak pulled a narrow cylindrical item from behind his belt, walking over to the dais and handing it out to his master. Anubis took it with his free hand, but paid it no mind.

"We don't know how to activate it, my lord. Do you desire we interrogate the prisoner?"

Anubis fingered the chain a moment longer before answering. "No. I wish to speak with him."

Herak was taken aback slightly. "M-my lord?"

"I wish to speak with my prisoner. Take me to him."

Herak swept a deep bow. "As my lord commands, so shall it be."

*********

Darth Malak played with the linked chains idly with one foot, thinking hard. The cramped holding cell was undoubtedly well-designed, and intrinsic. He marvelled slightly at the gold that covered the walls and ceiling. Still, the stone bench he sat upon was just that—a bench. Cool to the touch, yet the atmosphere was warmed mildly by the lone torch set in a bracket against the wall.

At first glance, the bars holding him in the cell seemed innocent enough, but when he touched them, an electric pulse surged through his body and pushed him back several feet, startled. He did not try that again.

It was all very confusing. He had not meant to come here. The portal had been designed to take him to the hanger bay of the Star Forge, so that he might escape via one of the shuttle pods. Much to his astonishment, however, he had arrived in a narrow chamber with high windows and interspersed stone columns. There had been a pedestal inlaid with symbols in the center of the room, and a few feet from that, atop a set of steps, resided an immense circular device carved with what looked like the same designs as the smaller mechanism before it.

He had not had time to wonder for long, however. A sharp hiss had announced the retraction of the petal-shaped door in the ceiling, and several rings descended through the opening. Darth Malak threw himself to the side just in time as they hovered beside him in a vertical column, inches above the sand floor. There was a bright flash of light, and the rings retreated back into the ceiling. The door clicked back into place and he stared at it for a moment before a cry of surprise drew him back to the present.

Subconsciously, his lightsaber found his hand and he activated it. Six figures garbed in strange armour stood before him in a tight circle, their heads completely encased in jackal-shaped helms. The eyes of the dogs glowed a fierce blue as one of them spoke in an unknown language and the six of them levelled their staves at him.

He spun into motion before they could so much as blink. Quickly, he brought the scarlet blade of his lightsaber down across one of the staves, severing the head. He grabbed the haft and yanked hard, pulling the man holding it forward in an awkward lurch at the same time that he elbowed another one in the face. He spun again, his cloak and lightsaber whirling as one. One of them managed to fire his weapon. The bolt of energy collided with one of the columns and blasted a chunk of stone out of it.

The smoke cleared enough for him to see two forms lying on the ground. Two more stood before him; the remaining two were nowhere to be found. He dropped his blade to his side and extended one hand, palm up, pushing outward with the Force. The two men were sent tumbling through the air, screaming wildly, until they collided violently against the wall at the far end of the chamber. Their staves clattered from lifeless fingers and they did not stir.

Abruptly, another staff blast sent a mountain of sand flying upward at him. Malak flipped in midair, kicking hard as he rebounded off one of the columns and soared through the air. He twirled and slashed his blade ruthlessly, richly rewarded by warm spurts of blood that splashed his face. The jackal head clattered to the ground.

Malak eyed the headless body for a moment, but that was all that was necessary. Blazing pain ricocheted through his skull as the final man crept up behind him and whacked him over the head with his staff. Malak fell to the ground and knew no more.

Until now, at least. He had awoken in this room. He had almost laughed mirthlessly at the futile chains binding his hands together. He had probed at the casing with his mind until he found the groove that held them together and shattered it. Now the chains sat useless at his feet.

He looked up suddenly as the bars retracted into the wall and a lone figure stepped into the room. It was cloaked entirely in black cloth and its face was hidden behind a mask. He felt it odd that these people refused to show their faces, and then almost smiled at the irony. _He _wore a mask, after all.

"This is a ship, is it not?" Malak's robotic voice echoed in the small chamber.

The shrouded figure regarded him stoically for a moment. There was stark curiosity hiding behind that mask. "It is." Malak was slightly taken aback. The other's voice was nearly as distorted as his own, if not more so. "Who are you?"

"Some call me Malak. Those who know, at any rate."

"I am Anubis, Supreme System Lord of the Goa'uld."

"The what?"

The shadowy presence cocked its head at him. "You do not know of the Goa'uld? Surely you jest."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you so," Malak replied.

"Where are you from?"

Malak ignored this question, instead imposing one of his own. "What is the year and nearest star system?"

"Year?" The other seemed perplexed. "Is that an indication of time? I know it not. We are in high orbit above Abydos."

"Abydos?" He knew of no planet by that name. Not even any of the Outer Rim planets. Could he be in the Unknown Regions? Or somewhere else?

"You've never heard of it." It was not a question. "Where are you from?"

Malak ignored the question again. "Where is Revan?"

"Who?"

"Revan. Where is she?"

"You are delirious." The robed figure withdrew a narrow silver cylinder from some unseen source and held it out for him to see. _His lightsaber! _"Can you tell me what this is?"

"It's a weapon," he said simply.

"Obviously," the voice dripped with sarcasm. "My First Prime tells me you cut down five of my Jaffa with this. How?"

Malak held up a hand and the lightsaber flew from Anubis's grip into his outstretched fingers. The gleaming red blade flashed to life in his hands.

"How did you do that?"

"I clicked the button on the side," he said.

"I was speaking of those." Malak let his eyes follow Anubis's fingers to the chains gathered at his feet.

"The Force," he said absently.

"What is the Force?"

"Beyond you, apparently." Hatred blazed in Malak's eyes, contempt for this creature before him.

Anubis backed up a visible step, though Malak had made no move against him. He merely gazed into the crimson blade for a long moment before speaking again. "Understand this. Your men wouldn't have been able to capture me had I not been so curious. That curiosity remains, for the moment. You amuse me, whatever you are. But, should I wish to escape, and I will—you will not be able to stop me."

**Abydos**

Jack frowned. "Are you sure this is the place, Skaara?"

"Quite certain, O'Neill. Daniel said the Eye was in this chamber, somewhere."

A thick layer of dust coated the floor and permeated the atmosphere in the room. There were an assortment of shelves shoved up against the walls, laden with books and manuscripts, scrolls and delicate tomes that had not seen the light of day in centuries.

Columns dominated this room as well, but they were cracked with age and neglect and spiderwebs crisscrossed between them. The place smelled like a tomb.

Jack moved further into the room, signalling over his shoulder with silent hand gestures. _Spread out. Cover positions. _Carter and Irons took up flanking positions behind two columns. Teal'c remained by O'Neill's side. The Jaffa had no knowledge of hand signals.

At the far end of the room was a wall depicting a mural that showed what he guessed was Ra holding an orb in one hand and a dead snake in the other. He would have paid it no mind, but for the fact that the snake's eye was a ruby.

"I think it is through there, O'Neill," Skaara said.

"He's right, Jack."

Daniel had made one of his famous appearances once again. "Hello, Daniel," he said cheerfully. "Come to watch the show?"

"I came to help, Jack. Hit the eye. Your scope."

Jack grunted and looked down at his rifle. Could it really be that simple? He set the safety on and levelled the bi-pod to his eye, directing the scope at the ruby on the wall. He squeezed on the trigger slightly and the beam of red light connected with the gem. Abruptly, the wall groaned and a section of the mural slid to one side, revealing a narrow passageway behind.

Daniel smiled at him. "You see? Trust me."

"I do," Jack said. "That's why you're still alive."

"Oh, ha ha," Daniel said.

"Skaara, wait here," Jack said.

"But—"

"Ah ah, no buts. Wait here. Teal'c, stay with him."

"As you wish, O'Neill."

The adjacent chamber was much narrower than the first. It was completely empty but for a small pedestal in the middle. Jack sighed and dropped his gun to his side. "Well, Daniel, it's not here. Now what?"

Daniel didn't answer immediately. He was busy poring over the pedestal, which he now saw supported a stone tablet inscribed in a strange language. "Daniel? Can you read that?"

Daniel looked up. "What? Oh. Well, bits of it, yes. It says something about a city. A lost city. It could be very important. You should take it with you."

"City? Daniel, we don't have time for that! Anubis is going to find the Eye and---"

There _was_ something else in the chamber. O'Neill hadn't noticed the ledge on the wall, because the top half of the wall was set two inches further in than the bottom half. A small box sat there, completely unadorned. O'Neill hoisted the strap on his gun over his shoulder and prised open the lid with both hands.

Glinting at him from within was a small red gem encircled by a ring of gold. He snatched it up and pocketed it. "Daniel, I've got it, now can we _go?_"

Daniel had returned to his study of the tablet. "You found the Eye?" he asked absently without looking away.

"Yes. Now we need to get these people out of here before this planet goes up!"

"Mmm…"

"DANIEL!"

"What? Oh, sorry I was reading…Jack, we need to take this tablet. It talks about a lost city. The Lost City of the Ancients. I know why I can understand some of this. It's in Ancient. Jack, this could be more important than anything. It could stop Anubis if we find it."

"_Daniel_," Jack gritted his teeth. "It's a lost city! We're not going to _find _it!"

"You will. Trust me. Have Sam bring it with her."

"Fine, but can we go _now_?"

But Daniel was gone. Jack cursed and left the room.

Teal'c and Skaara both opened their mouths as he came out, but he held up a finger and walked past them to where Carter peered around her column. "Carter, Daniel has requested that you gather up the tablet back there. It's important to him. I wouldn't ask, but you know how he gets."

She nodded. "Did you find the Eye, sir?"

"Yes, I did." He patted his side pocket in acknowledgement. "It's time for the evacuation. Carter, the tablet."

Her mouth formed in an inaudible "oh" and she hurried past him. "Irons, Teal'c, Skaara, with me."

The three followed him into the entrance chamber of the pyramid. Abydos's version of the embarkation room, for lack of a better way of putting it. O'Neill turned to Skaara as they neared the gargantuan doorway and clapped a firm hand on the youth's shoulder. "Go and tell Kasuf it's time," he said. "We'll dial the gate and have it ready for you, but then we have to leave. Thirty-eight minutes, Skaara. You had better be fast."

Skaara nodded and darted out of the room. O'Neill addressed Irons. "You have the coordinates, right?"

"Yes, sir," the other nodded and withdrew a small slip of paper from his vest pocket. "P5W-896. Uninhabited, as far as we could tell. At any rate, it's better than this place will be."

"Dial the gate, Lieutenant."

Irons hurried to do as he was ordered. The gate flared to life as he pressed the first symbol, spinning in its frame. O'Neill watched it for a moment before he spoke to Teal'c. "I'm hoping you brought the remote activator for the rings," he said idly.

In response, the Jaffa withdrew a small rectangular object from his pocket that held a blue crystal in its center. The crystal was pulsating slightly. "I did, O'Neill."

"Chevron six encoded," Irons called out.

"I thought we left Walter back at the SGC," O'Neill said under his breath.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow and folded his arms behind his back, still clutching the ring activator.

"Chevron seven is locked," Irons said.

The gate _kawhooshed _into life and Irons turned back to them. "That's amazing!" O'Neill said mockingly. "Does it always do that?"

Footsteps mounting the steps behind them announced Carter. O'Neill looked at her in mild surprise. "What took you so long?"

"It's fragile, sir. It almost crumbled when I touched it. I had to be careful."

"Fair enough. Are we ready? Good." They all moved over to stand under the ring platform. The gate sparkled and illuminated the room.

"I love those event horizons," O'Neill said. "Teal'c, press the button."

The rings descended from the ceiling and warped them back to the tel'tak.

_Whoosh_

"It's unlikely Anubis knows about the supernova, sir," Carter was saying. "With any luck, the blast will take out his ship as well."

"If only," O'Neill said. "Teal'c, get us out—"

O'Neill felt his jaw drop open and did not bother to rectify the situation. The star was already twice its previous size, and expanding fast. Glowing red, the fiery ball exploded toward them. O'Neill blinked, stunned.

"TEAL'C, FLY THIS FUCKING SHIP!"

But the Jaffa was already at the controls, slapping at buttons and working the controls as O'Neill had never seen him. "Prepare to enter hyper—"

Carter had called out. "Wait! Sir! Look!" She was pointing towards the star.

O'Neill had to stare at it for a moment before he realized what she was distressed about. It was _shrinking. _Retreating back into its own mass. He closed his jaw with a snap, but not before the star had collapsed entirely. Nothing remained but a stream of matter swirling around a dark vortex.

"Carter, is that a black _hole_?"

"I t-think so, sir," she stammered.

"And how does something like that happen?"

There was a long pause. Then: "I don't know, sir."

"Teal'c, get us out of here."

_____

**_Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! As always, please comment and review. Ciao. o3o_**


	4. Chapter Three: Incoming Wormhole

**_Author's Note: Bastila and Revan are back, and stranded in the SGC. AU, inferred femmeslash BxR. More on that later._**

**____**

**Chapter Three**

**Incoming Wormhole**

**One Month Later**

**Stargate Command**

O'Neill twisted his mouth briefly in distaste at the shoddy turkey sandwich on his plate before reluctantly picking it up and taking a small bite. He was salivating from hunger, but he was at least thankful that the unprocessed meat didn't seem to have a taste today. The bread felt like sandpaper in his mouth, and he swallowed after only a few chews. He took one last look at his sandwich before giving it up as a bad job and discarding it on the plate.

Daniel Jackson sat across the table from him, hunched over and intently studying the same piece of paper he had been looking at when O'Neill first sat down. He kept smoothing it out irritably and shaking his head, muttering to himself. Every once in a while, he would take a sip from his orange juice before popping the pencil back in his mouth that was now covered in bite marks.

"You've been looking at that thing for two weeks, Daniel. I don't think you're going to figure it out."

Jackson didn't reply immediately. His brow was furrowed in thought; Jack decided it was best just to wait calmly. But Daniel just sat there, twirling that pencil between his teeth. O'Neill started to open his mouth again when Daniel spoke.

"This symbol looks familiar…it could be a derivation of Arabic. I'm not sure. I need to take it back to my lab."

Jack glanced at the paper ruefully before sighing to himself. It was the same symbol Daniel had pointed out to him yesterday. And the day before. Daniel seemed to be suffering from short-term memory loss ever since he had been banished from the ranks of the Ancients.

"It's not Arabic," O'Neill said for the countless time. "It's Ancient. You _know _that."

"Yes, Jack, I'm just saying that the language had to have originated somewhere. The Ancients were the builders of the Stargates. Who knows, maybe some of them were here on Earth millennia ago and picked up on some of the dialects. Oma said that—"

Jack cut him off with a wave of his hand. "What exactly happened there, anyways? Why won't you talk about it?"

Daniel finally tore his eyes off the paper and looked at him. "I don't remember what happened. One minute I was on Anubis's ship, and the next…nothing. I woke up where you found me. I only know that Oma managed to ascend the entire population of Abydos before the planet could be obliterated by the black hole."

"Have we had any contact from the Tok'ra about that?"

"I don't know. Sam's in with General Hammond now. Or on her way, at least." Jack was surprised to see the colour in Daniel's cheeks flush as the archaeologist avoided meeting O'Neill's eyes.

"Daniel? Something wrong?"

"I-saw-her-in-the-shower," Daniel breathed quickly. His eyes were shut tight. He clearly wanted to get this over with quickly.

"You _what?"_

"I saw her in the shower. I walked in on her accidentally. I was trying to head back to the lab, but I opened the door and there she stood next to her locker. Naked."

Jack wanted to hit him. His memory couldn't have faltered _that _severely. He kept his anger in check, though. It had been an accident. For now. "How did she take it?"

"Could have been worse, I suppose. She just snatched up her towel with a yell and threw the door in my face. Almost smashed my glasses, too."

"That does sound like Carter," O'Neill said.

Daniel took another sip of juice and changed the subject. "Did you see it, Jack? The sun? Did you see what happened?"

O'Neill wasn't listening. He felt a surge of something besides anger flush through his body. Jealously. He had always fancied Carter, and Daniel knew it. If anyone else found out though, Jack would be facing a court martial. Their relationship had to be kept strictly by-the-books and nothing further.

"Jack?"

O'Neill blinked. "What? Oh. Yeah, I saw it. I didn't know that was possible."

"I didn't either. Do you think it could be something else?"

"Something besides a black hole, you mean?"

"I've been thinking about this for a while, Jack. Oma said something before she sent me back here. 'Two universes are about to collide'. Black holes don't normally behave like that. What if it's a portal?"

"A portal to what?"

"I don't know. Carter's the physicist. We should be talking to her."

"You can ask her about it later. Daniel?"

Jackson's eyes had taken on a glazed look and he returned his attention to the paper. "I think I know what this is."

"It's a piece of paper," O'Neill said idly.

Daniel ignored him. "These symbols here," he turned the paper around so Jack could see. "Eight of them. I'm pretty sure I've seen this one in our database, and some of the others look familiar from the cartouche on Abydos."

"What are you getting at, Daniel?"

"Bear with me, Jack. This symbol here, this eighth symbol...I've never seen it before. It's not part of the Milky Way."

"Meaning what?"

"Jack, I think this is a gate address. And it's farther away than anywhere we've ever traveled before."

*********

Teal'c stood at the funeral pyre…and wondered. The blazing fire beat waves of heat across his face. His calculating eyes looked out from under a dark shroud. His companions were also cloaked and hooded, each with arms folded across their chests and heads bowed. They numbered seven, himself included. He felt like he had been here before.

Forgetting himself momentarily, he raised his head and breathed the night air deeply. The faint smell of burning flesh caught at his nostrils, but he ignored it. The moon hung low in the sky. It was winter. Drey'auc would be at home with dinner waiting for him. R'yac should already be in bed for the night. He would see his son in the morning. He might even spar with him in the practice yard, if he had time.

The night seemed to swim before his eyes; the scene dissolved and reformed stronger than before. Teal'c's head reeled with nausea. Where was he? He didn't remember anyone being killed. Not recently, at least. He had no idea how he had come here.

He caught movement from the corner of his eye. One of his companions was walking towards him from the other side of the fire. He tensed briefly, and then relaxed when gnarled hands tugged back the hood and he was met with the face of his longtime friend Bra'tac.

"_Tek'ma'tae _Bra'tac. _Nanb'tu'qua?"_

"_Mai-aka maki. _I am well. It is good to see you, old friend."

Teal'c nodded towards the fire and the alter. "Who lies there?"

"Teal'c? Are you feeling well? I had hoped you would say a few words. I understand if you are not comfortable doing so."

"I need to return home at once," Teal'c said suddenly. "Drey'auc is waiting for me."

"Drey'auc...? Teal'c? _Ya'ol'wa?"_

Teal'c stared at him. "What are you talking about? _Mi'la tu'tu?"_

Bra'tac was a long moment in meeting his eyes. "Teal'c...Drey'auc, R'yac…they are there." The Jaffa pointed towards the funeral pyre.

Teal'c looked at him blankly, not comprehending. "My wife is at home. My son lies in bed."

Bra'tac shook his head sadly. "They were killed in the blast when Anubis bombarded Chulak from orbit, nearly a fortnight past. It is natural that you would push it from your mind. I might have done the same, were I in your position. But now is the time to be strong, Teal'c! The Jaffa will be free, and they will stand behind you to bring down this false god!"

Teal'c barely heard him. His wife and only son…dead. It was unimaginable. Even as he threw back his head and howled in mourning, the scene shifted. The alter that had been coarse riverstone a moment ago was now carved from marble. And his companions now numbered nine. Bra'tac still stood there, looking at him. The older Jaffa didn't seem to be aware of his distress. His face was oddly calm, and he was smiling.

And then R'yac was there, stepping right through the flames. "Father," the young boy said. "You let them kill me. You did not save me. You did not save mother."

His wife was there too, with an arm on their son's shoulder and tears streaming down her face. "I tried, husband. I tried to save him. Anubis is merciless. There was nowhere to run."

Bra'tac still stood there smiling, and the other eight Jaffa took no notice of Drey'auc or R'yac. Teal'c opened his mouth, but no words would come. He just stood there, looking at them as tears filled his eyes.

Drey'auc's face suddenly contorted and her mouth twisted into a sneer. "Why didn't you help us?" she said accusingly. "Where were you, husband? Why didn't you save your son?"

The flames reached out toward them, trying to draw them back to the alter. Teal'c stretched out a hand, but he could not make his feet move forward. And Bra'tac still smiled ignorantly.

Drey'auc cried out in pain as the first of the flames licked at her back and set her clothing aflame. She threw herself upon R'yac protectively as the fire engulfed them. Through it all, Teal'c could hear her haunting screams.

"HELP US, HUSBAND! HELP US!"

And Bra'tac merely smiled.

*********

Teal'c gasped and clutched his head with both hands as he jolted violently out of the _Kel'no'reem_, the deep state of meditation used by Jaffa as a substitute for sleep. He rolled over onto his side and vomited on the floor. His hand trembled as he scrubbed the remnants from his mouth, and his legs felt like gelatine as he clambered to his feet.

A knock sounded at the door. He hesitated. He had never had a dream during _Kel'no'reem _before. He wasn't sure what it meant. His wife and child were safe on Chulak. He had to believe that. He had to.

The knock came again, more insistent this time. "Enter," he called. Gingerly, he stepped out of the ring of candles and sat down on the bed.

Samantha Carter entered the room, closing the door behind her. She was slim, with creamy skin and blonde hair. Her blue eyes took in everything, including the puddle of vomit on the floor.

"Turkey not agree with you, either?" she asked.

"Samantha Carter? I do not understand."

She gestured at the pool of sick. "If you're ill, we should get you to Dr. Frasier. We're scheduled to go off-world in a couple of hours. If something's wrong, we need to know about it."

"It is nothing," he replied. "I had a dream. During my _Kel'no'reem."_

"A dream," she said blandly. "About what?"

"It is not important," he said. "I did not expect it, and should have been better prepared. It…confused me, nothing more."

"Right, well, if you're sure, I have a question."

"You may ask it, Samantha Carter."

"The device we found. The Zero Point Module, as Dr. McKay has so aptly named it…who decided he got to name things, anyway? Have you ever seen one before? Were they used by the Goa'uld?"

"I have not, Major Carter. I understand it no better than you, and the Goa'uld would have no use for it."

"Well, as far as that," she said. "I believe the device to be some form of energy. In essence, it's a battery. A very powerful battery."

"To serve what purpose?"

"I don't know yet. We'll have to run a few more tests, but I think it could be used in conjunction with the Stargate to amplify the gate's power, among other things."

"We could travel farther?"

"I think so. I won't be sure until we have more data. Anyways, just wanted to ask you that and see how you were. Later, Teal'c." She turned to leave.

"Samantha Carter, wait a moment."

She turned back to regard him. "What's up, Teal'c?"

"May I ask a personal query?"

"Alright. Shoot."

"Have you ever fallen in love?"

She looked at him. "That wasn't the question I was expecting. Yeah, I have. Once."

"Thank you, Major Carter."

She opened her mouth, but then thought better of what she had been going to say. "You're welcome. See you in a bit, Teal'c."

As the door closed behind her, the vision of his wife and son on that funeral pyre came back to him.

"_Dal mek creon te shree tal'ma," _he whispered.

*********

George Hammond kept eyeing the red phone that sat on a corner of his desk, nervously bouncing one leg up and down in anticipation of the call he knew would eventually come. Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead, but he barely noticed. All his attention was directed on the phone.

"Sam still says we should contact the Tok'ra and ask them to investigate the anomaly."

"Already done, Dr. McKay," Hammond said mildly. "I gave the order four hours ago."

"You did?" Rodney sat up a little taller in his chair. "She could have told me that."

"There's a tel'tak stationed three quadrants away from the event horizon as we speak. If anything comes through, we'll know about it."

"Did she tell you about the Zed Pee Em?"

"She's on her way now. I was waiting to hear her report on it."

No sooner had he finished speaking than a knock sounded at the door, and one of the guards entered, trailed by Major Carter. She saluted him, and stood erect as the soldier closed the door behind her. "At ease, Major," he said.

"Sir, what's he doing here?"

"It's nice to see you too, Sam," Rodney said.

"Dr. McKay has offered his expertise on the ZPM. You read his report, Major?"

"I did. He could have picked a better name."

"I'm Canadian!" Rodney protested.

"Your report, Major," Hammond said.

"Sir, the device is highly volatile. It melted three computers."

Rodney snorted. "You hooked it up to a computer?"

"We had no idea what it was," she said.

"That's blatantly obvious."

"Dr. McKay, if you cannot refrain from watching your tongue, I will have you forcefully removed from this office. Continue, please, Major Carter."

"After our first failed experiments, we translated some of the device's interface and integrated it into the power conduit that runs throughout the base. The light flash earlier..."

"That was you?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. But I think I know what it is now."

Rodney slapped his forehead in frustration. "It's an energy source!"

They both ignored him. "It's an energy source, sir. Or rather, an amplifier."

"An amplifier," he replied smoothly. "Could it be used to power the Stargate?"

Rodney shook his head and yelled "Absolutely not!" at the same time that Sam said "It might, sir."

"What do you need, Major?"

"Sir, some of the device's interface is still encoded. We'll need more time to translate it to grasp it fully."

"Find Dr. Jackson, then. He should speed things up considerably."

"Yes, sir."

Rodney made a great show of pretending to stretch. "Well, you two don't seem to need me here, so if you don't mind, I'll just—"

The phone rang. Everyone stopped talking and looked at it. It rang again, and General Hammond took a deep breath and reached out a hand to pick it up.

Walter's voice echoed over the intercom. "Unscheduled off-world activation."

All of their troubles forgotten for the moment, the three of them rose and bolted for the door. The phone rang again.

*********

The iron lock spun across the sand floor, and Revan dropped the hot tea kettle as Sith poured into the house and fanned out around her, crimson lightsabers threatening.

"Run!" Bastila shouted. Her lightsaber flashed, and one of the Sith toppled to the floor, but it grappled with her as it fell, pulling her down as well.

More crowded in at the door, black-robed shapes spilling out of the night, striking at Bastila as she struggled to rise to her feet, blood staining the sand red.

"Bastila!" Revan screamed. Her lightsaber lay upstairs on their bed, useless to her. Clawing her belt knife from its sheath, she threw herself over the kitchen table to help her lover, and screamed as the first blade seared through her chest.

Blood frothed up into her mouth, and a voice whispered inside her head, _I have won again, Revan._

*********

Revan struggled to hold on to some semblance of what she was as she was tossed about in the void. She was dimly aware of Bastila's fingers still clutched in her own terrified grip, but at the same time, nothing seemed real.

The world heaved.

*********

Revan was happy after she married Bastila, and tried to not let the moods take her, the times when she thought there should have been something more, something different. News of the world outside came to her small, isolated hut on Tatooine with merchants wanting to buy farm product, or smugglers looking to buy her droids.

When Bastila died, she sat alone for long hours by her grave, tears cascading down her face. By the locals, she was thought to be an outcast, and some muttered that Revan was crazy and dangerous.

Yet when the dire news came, none refused to accept her at their side. The Sith had come out of hiding and were attempting to subjugate the free people of the galaxy under their tyrannical reign. So Revan took up her old lightsaber and marched with the other rebels from the Mos Eisley spaceport in a last ditch effort to throw back the invaders.

And at the border, the people of Tatooine met the Sith hordes, endless ranks of Dark Jedi led by Darth Malak. Revan fought calmly and determinedly, one with the blade. She was hardly aware of it when one of those fallen Jedi ran her through with his own lightsaber. And as she lay dying on the sand dune, watching the sky seem to grow dark at noon, breath coming ever slower, she heard a voice say, _I have won again, Revan._

*********

Stars cartwheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age of the earth. She felt separated from her body, and yet one with everything. She was aware of Bastila behind her. She could feel the aura of the other woman.

The world heaved.

*********

Vrook Lamar tried to console Revan when Bastila took sick and died just a week before their wedding. Kreia tried, too, but she was shaken herself, since for all her skill with the Force she had no idea what it was that had killed the girl. Revan had sat outside Bastila's house when she died, and there seemed to be nowhere on Talravin she could go that she did not still hear her screaming. She knew she could not stay. Master Lamar gave her a yellow crystal for her lightsaber in memoriam, and a letter of introduction he said might get her taken into the Republican military. Then she went on her way.

Revan had her money stolen on Taris, though, after Darth Malak attacked the planet. She barely escaped with her life and went into exile on Naboo, where she met a woman called Seta who told her such crazy things about herself that she finally had to get away from her.

Her exploits brought her to the city, and there her skills with a lightsaber earned her a place in the Queen's Guards. The Queen had not married yet, and sometimes late at night, Revan found herself lying in bed thinking of her, and she was filled with odd thoughts that this was not the way things were supposed to be, that there should be something more to her life. The Queen did not look at her, of course; she married a man of royalty, though she did not seem happy in it. Revan was just a soldier, once a farmer from a small village on Tatooine. Besides, she had a dark reputation, as a woman of violent moods.

Some said she was mad, and in ordinary times perhaps not even her skill with the lightsaber would have kept her in the Guard, but these were not ordinary times. Sith Lords were springing up like weeds. Every time one was taken down, two more proclaimed themselves, or three, till every planet, every system, was ravaged by war.

Revan led a thousand men when the Queen's Guards marched into the mountains to face the insurgents, and she commanded the Guard when the shattered remnants retreated back across the land. The length of Naboo she fought and fell back, amid hordes of fleeing refugees, until at last she found herself back in the city. Many of the people had fled already, and many counselled the army to retreat further, but the Queen vowed she would not leave.

The Force came to her during the battle for Naboo, and she hurled lightning among the invaders, and slashed ruthlessly with her lightsaber, yet the feeling came again, that she had been born for something else. For all she did, there were too many of the enemy to stop, and they also could use the Force. At last, a lightning bolt hurled Revan from the Palace wall, broken, bleeding, and burned, and as her last breath rattled from her throat, she heard a voice whisper, _I have won again, Revan. _

*********

Bastila's fingers tightened around her own, and she could feel herself coalesce back into being. She was aware of the other woman screaming. "Revan, something is wrong! This isn't right! Something is wrong!"

The world heaved.

*********

She was a soldier. She was a farmer. She was a beggar, and a queen. She was born, lived, and died a Sith. She died mad, she died rotting, and she died of sickness, accident, age. She was executed, and multitudes cheered her death. She proclaimed herself the new Sith Lord and threw her armada against the galaxy; she ran from the Force and hid. She lived and died never knowing. Bastila married her. Bastila, stern-faced, glared at her contemptuously and stripped her, cut her off from the Force. Bastila, with tears in her eyes, plunged a dagger into her heart, and she thanked her as she died. She loved other women, married other women. A hundred lives. More. So many she could not count them. And at the end of every life, as she lay dying, as she drew her final breath, a voice whispered in her ear, _I have won again, Revan. _

*********

Revan felt life in her again. She staggered and almost fell, and felt Bastila stagger behind her in turn. Dimly, she was aware of the cold. She stood on a metallic ramp with a wide railing. An assortment of uniformed men stood at the other end of the room, all pointing their weapons at she and Bastila.

Above them, behind a glass screen, more men were visible. A stocky, balding man with a gold pin on his chest to denote his rank tugged a microphone off the desk in front of him and said "Hold your fire!"

Revan just stared and shivered, clinging to Bastila's fingers as if she was afraid the other woman would slip away.

*********

"Why didn't the iris close?" General Hammond demanded.

Walter threw up his hands, at a complete loss. "I don't know sir. Everything's reading fine. The gate's online. The iris is operational. We'll have to run a diagnostic to figure out what happened."

"Do it," Hammond said. He turned to regard O'Neill, who stood at his left shoulder. "What do you make of this, Jack?"

"I don't know, sir," O'Neill said. "But we had better find out."

_____

**_Author's Note: Comments, questions, praise, critique? ~ Denmar_**


	5. Chapter Four: Something Nice Back Home

**_Author's Note: Explicit femmeslash in this chapter. BxR. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it. You were warned._**

**_James and Revanation: Yes, I know I used the Wheel of Time for source material. It wasn't an important part for the chapter, and it just fit the context. I did make a disclaimer earlier._**

**_Ramenth: This is AU. Meaning things can, and will, be different. It's not a canon universe. So yes, for the purpose of this story, Sha're is alive. _**

**_Thank you everyone for all your comments!_**

**_____**

**Chapter Four**

**Something Nice Back Home**

**Present Day**

**Stargate Command**

Cold permeated the room, but the shiver that tingled down Revan's spine had nothing to do with the temperature. As far as she could determine, she was in a medical bay. Doctors in white lab coats scurried about the room, busying themselves with menial tasks. She was hardly aware of the other woman who held a stethoscope to her chest to check her heartbeat, but she gasped sharply when she held up a small pen and directed a beam of light into her eye.

"Pupils are dilated," the woman said as if to herself. She marked something down on a clipboard and bit her lower lip. Her voice rose. "As far as I can tell, sir, they're both perfectly healthy. And human."

The same balding man she had seen in the viewing window walked over. He seemed to wear a permanent frown, but that was more due to the shape of his face than his mood. His eyes were warm. "Alright, Dr. Frasier. I'll see to it that they get to their quarters. Thank you."

Revan turned her head to the side. Bastila sat at the other end of the bed, idly swinging her legs back and forth like a girl. The younger woman gave her a hesitant smile. "Are you all right, Bas?" she asked.

"Fine," the other Jedi said. "This place is interesting. Where are we? Where are the others?"

Revan shook her head. "I don't know. I thought they were right behind us." Suddenly she tensed as memory came flooding back to her. Malak was here, somewhere. The other woman caught the look in her eye, but only shook her head. It was not to be discussed here.

"Others?" The bald man said. "What others?"

Revan swung her head back to him, her bangs falling across her face. She idly brushed them back with one hand and said, "We traveled with five companions. A Mandalorian, a Republican officer, a droid, a Twi'lek girl, and a Wookie. What planet are we on? The Sith will find us here. We don't want to cause you any problems."

The two strangers just looked at her with blank faces. "Are you sure they're all right, Dr. Frasier?"

"Physically, yes sir. I'll run a few more tests to be sure. They seem to be delusional."

"What?" Revan balked. "We're fine. Please, just tell us what planet this is."

"I'm not at liberty to disclose that information," the bald man said. "You and your companion will remain here until Dr. Frasier is certain you're not a threat to the base, and then you will be escorted to your separate quarters."

"Sepa—no. We will take rooms together."

"With all due respect, ma'am, that's not up to you."

The man was going to be difficult. She had dealt with difficult men before. She flicked her fingers casually, feeling the Force within her. "We will share a room."

"I'll see to it that you share a room," the bald man said. He addressed the woman in the lab coat. "Dr. Frasier, I need to return to my office. If you find anything, you know where I am."

"I understand, sir. Good luck."

"Thank you, doctor."

*********

Four hours later, after being poked and prodded, stripped and freshly showered, Revan found herself and Bastila being borne into a small room by a pair of armed soldiers. Bastila went in first, and one of the guards put a hand on the small of her back to make her follow, but Revan shrugged him off. "I can walk, thanks," she snapped.

The door closed behind them, and Bastila flopped down on the bed. The room was barely furnished. Besides the bed, there was only a nightstand with a small lamp and a potted plant. The walls were bare and gray. The room seemed to sap what little spirit she had left.

She sat down next to Bastila. The younger woman hung her head and clasped her hands between her knees, twiddling her thumbs idly. Their clothes had been taken and burned, or so they had been told. The strange garments they wore were all of one piece and quite uncomfortable. There was a patch on the shoulder that depicted an unfinished triangle with a circle directly above it and the letters "SGC" below it. She sighed.

"Do you think they're lying?" Bastila asked suddenly.

Revan cocked her head in thought. "I don't think so. Did you see the look on their faces when we told them who we were? I don't know where we are, but it's far from home."

"Malak is here, Revan."

"I know, but I think he may have gotten past them somehow. I don't believe these people would harbour his kind."

"What about the others? Do you think they could still be trapped in that thing? That…gate?"

Revan hesitated. They had been informed they had arrived here via a teleportation device, or that is at least what it sounded like to her. It created a wormhole through space, and allowed nearly instantaneous travel across vast distances. She didn't completely understand it.

"If they are, then there is nothing we can do to help them. They're on their own. We have to find Malak."

"I'm scared, Revan."

"I know, Bas." She reached out and brushed the other woman's cheek with a slender finger. "Me too."

Bastila tingled at her touch, reaching up with one hand and stroking her lover's fingers. She held her hand close to her cheek. "Your skin is so warm," she said. "You smell good."

Revan laughed. "You can thank those soldiers who stole my clothes and decided I needed a shower. I guess they were right."

Abruptly, Bastila leaned over and planted a kiss on the older woman's lips. She pulled her face back quickly to gauge Revan's reaction, and the older Jedi kissed her back forcefully, their tongues playing with each other and sending sparks of pleasure throughout their bodies. Revan ran her fingers through Bastila's hair as the two melted in each other's arms. She gently pushed the other woman down on the bed and held her arms back above her head, their lips never parting. It lasted forever.

Revan could feel just a hint of wetness between her legs. She blindly groped for the zipper that bound the other woman inside her clothing and drew it down, exposing her flesh openly. Bastila's breasts were full and firm, and her dark nipples stood hard at attention. Revan drew her lips away for just a moment and sat up, allowing the younger woman to shrug out of her clothing. Now Bastila wore only her decoratively laced underwear. Revan kissed her way down her body, taking pleasure from her moans, and slid a hand under the elastic band of her underwear, stripping them down her legs sensually. Bastila coyly put a hand between her legs and stuck a finger in her mouth enticingly. "Make love to me, Revan."

Revan kissed her way up the other woman's thighs, licking around her love tunnel but never quite making contact, teasing her. Bastila arched her back and moaned. Revan could see her labia glistening with wetness, and she experimentally began to rub the other woman's clitoris with a finger. The effect was immediate. Bastila grabbed a pillow and thrust it against her face as she moaned loudly, her hips bucking wildly.

"Oh-h-h, Revan," Bastila breathed. "Don't stop. Don't ever stop."

Revan thrust her face against the woman's entrance and inhaled deeply, savouring her delicious scent. She worked her thumb against Bastila's clitoris faster and faster as she stuck out her tongue and began to lick up and down the woman's lips, her tongue darting over her sex.

Bastila pushed the older woman's face into her spread legs. "Harder. Faster. Pleeeeeaaaase." She moaned deeply, and stuffed a fist in her mouth to quiet herself.

Revan stopped and sat up, unzipping herself and sliding her clothing off her body. She peeled the underwear off her hips and pulled them down her legs, throwing them aside. She threw herself on top of Bastila, her lips interlocking with the other woman's, and sparks ignited the room. "I want to taste you," Bastila whispered.

Revan positioned herself so her hips were directly above the other woman's head and Bastila's face was between her legs. Taking a deep breath, she settled herself on the other woman's face. Bastila tentatively stuck her tongue out and sampled the other woman. It tasted sweet and slightly bitter at the same time. She began to slurp greedily, enjoying Revan's flowing juices. Revan stuck a hand between her legs and began to play with her clit as waves of pleasure rocked her entire body.

"Fuck me, Bas," she moaned. "Fuck me with your tongue! A-a-a-h!" She reached up and began to fondle her breasts. They were smaller than Bastila's, and her small pink nipples were a good complement to her creamy white skin.

Revan shuddered violently as the first waves of her orgasm wracked her body. She moaned loudly, too loud; someone would certainly hear, but she didn't care. Nothing else mattered. This was the perfect moment. She threw her head back in wild abandonment, enjoying every second as she rocked her hips on Bastila's face. Gradually, the vibrations inside her began to subside, bit by bit, but the pleasure remained.

Utterly spent, she flopped down on her side next to the other woman. Their faces met, the eyes locked. "I love you, Bas," she whispered. "I love you so much."

"I know, Revan." The younger woman kissed her full on the mouth. "I love you too."

*********

Daniel Jackson narrowly avoided barrelling into a woman with a stack of papers as he rounded another corridor. "Sorry," he said hastily. She ignored him.

The door at the end of the hallway was guarded by two men. He knew the one on the right—the Soviet kid, Irons—but the one on the left was a newcomer to the base.

"Dr. Jackson," the latter greeted as he drew closer. "I've read your file, sir. I've heard a lot about you."

Daniel was slightly taken aback. "Y-you have?"

"Yes, sir. Died and came back to life, among other things. I gotta get you to tell me how that played out, one of these days."

"Technically I wasn't dead, but that's not really relevant here. I'd like to speak to the women."

"Prisoners, you mean."

"I wasn't aware we were calling them that, but alright. I need to speak to the prisoners."

"No-can-do, Dr. Jackson. This door remains locked until my orders change. And they haven't."

"Look, I won't be long. I just want to get a feel for them, and maybe figure out who they are. Then maybe we can stop calling them prisoners."

The man looked hesitant, but it was Irons who answered. "Go on in, Dr. Jackson. We'll keep a watch for you."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

The kid smiled at him and opened the door. Daniel hurried inside as the lock clicked behind him.

The two women on the bed were wrapped in each other's arms and covered by the only blanket. Daniel averted his eyes, and his gaze found the discarded underwear on the floor. Clearing his throat, he directed his eyes to a point somewhere on the wall over the two girl's heads.

"I see you two have made yourselves comfortable. My name is Dr. Daniel Jackson. I'm an archaeologist. And you are?"

The pair merely looked at him serenely. Then the one on the right, with close cropped brown hair and pale skin, spoke with a hint of a smile touching her lips. "He's a funny looking one, Bas. What are those on his eyes?"

"I expect his vision is impaired," the other one said. She seemed more innocent than her companion, yet carried an air of authority around her at the same time. She was a hardened warrior, and born leader.

"What are your names?" Daniel asked again.

The pretty pale woman spoke. "I'm Revan of—I'm Revan." Daniel had the feeling that she had changed what she had been going to say. "This is Bastila of Talravin."

"Talravin," he replied blankly.

"One of the Core Worlds," Revan continued. She stared at the uncomprehending look on his face. "We must be very far from home indeed if you've not heard of it."

"How did you get through our Stargate? How did you disable the iris?"

Revan looked at him, not understanding. "I don't know what you're talking about. We were on the Star Forge, and then we were here."

"Star Forge?"

"It's a battle station," she said nonchalantly. "Specializing in the manufacture of bombing vessels."

"Vessels. You mean spaceships."

"If you wish to see it so. Yes. Spaceships."

"And what were you doing there?"

"We were leading an attack against an enemy of the Republic. We were supposed to be a diversion, to allow Bastila enough time to use her Battle Meditation."

"Which is?"

"A unique manifestation of the Force which instills in one's allies a greater morale in battle while reducing the opposition's will to fight."

"Moral support," Bastila chimed in with a smile.

"Moral support," Daniel said flatly. "I see."

"Where are our weapons?" Revan asked sharply.

"I wasn't aware you were armed," Daniel said.

"The cylindrical devices your guards took from us when we arrived. Where are they?"

"In the science lab," Daniel said. "Carter will want to experiment with those."

"Carter?"

"Nevermind. Why did you come here?"

Revan shrugged. "It was an accident. Malak opened a portal and stepped through it. We had little choice but to follow him."

"Who?"

"The enemy I spoke of earlier." The two women exchanged a knowing look, but Revan carried on. "He is here somewhere. He may have slipped past your guards."

Daniel very much doubted it. "If someone had come through the gate before you, we would have noticed. Yours was the first activation in three days."

Revan looked confused. "But then—that doesn't make sense. He has to be here."

Daniel interrupted her. "This Malak...you claim he _made _a Stargate?"

"I don't know what he did," Revan said. "It was a creation of the Force. I could feel it radiating from him. But it looked nothing like what you call your Stargate."

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, but for the second time that day, the alarm blared and Walter's voice echoed throughout the base "Unscheduled off-world activation."

"What is that?" Revan looked around for the source of the disturbance.

"Nothing good," Daniel said. "I'll be back." She opened her mouth in protest, but the door was already closing behind him.

*********

"Are we getting an IDC?" General Hammond asked from his position behind Walter's shoulder.

"None registered, sir," the Sergeant replied. "Wait. It's SG-10."

"They're two days early," Hammond said. "Open the iris."

"Yes, sir."

Through the glass of the viewing screen, in the debarkation room, the titanium shield retracted back inside the naquadah ring, revealing the open wormhole. Armoured men filed into the room in a rush, two taking up positions at the rail guns at opposite corners of the room. The rest halted before the metal ramp and cocked their rifles.

The five members of SG-10 stumbled through the gate, holding a stretcher between them. A young female lay there, presumably unconscious. Her skin was blue, and an array of tentacles was gathered at the back of her head. Major Boyd shouted across the room: "More coming through!"

A man stepped through the gate, or at least, Hammond thought he was a man. He was encased entirely in armour. Two tubes connected to the mouthpiece of his helmet and formed an arch across his chest, disappearing behind his back. It had to be a breathing apparatus. The figure dominated the room, nearly seven feet tall, and hoisting a gun half his size.

"Sergeant," Hammond said. "What in the _hell _is that?"

*********

**Present Day**

**Anubis****'****s Flagship, In Orbit Above Chulak**

Darth Malak and Herak worked forms in the sparring room with practice sticks. The Sith Lord had been training the Jaffa in the ways of lightsaber combat for a month. Some of the forms were good for balance, and would help in battle, at least. Shii-Cho for basic attack and parry; Soresu for defense; Juyo for more bold and direct movements, which required a great deal of emotion and bore the risk of one falling to the Dark Side.

Herak cut across him with a swift uppercut, but Malak sidestepped and retaliated with a downward stroke aimed for the other man's abdomen. The sparring stick clacked loudly against Herak's breastplate.

"You stepped too far," Malak said. "Why do you wear that thing?" He gestured at the armour on the Jaffa's chest.

"I could not risk you injuring my symbiote," Herak said.

Malak grunted. Symbiote. The mere thought revolted him. He had thought these beings to be human, until one of the Jaffa pulled his shirt aside to reveal the marsupial-like pouch in his abdomen. And what was inside it. He shivered inwardly.

He had learned much of these people in his short time aboard this ship. The Goa'uld were a parasitic race of aliens that took humans for hosts, although that was a closely guarded secret. Most of the Jaffa believed the Goa'uld to be omniscient deities.

Most. Herak was different. Oh, he was still willing to serve. Happy to do so. But he didn't pretend that the symbiotes were anything more than what they were. Still, Anubis had earned his respect and loyalty. The Goa'uld didn't need divine power to rule the galaxy. The sheer force of his flagship and his innumerable Jaffa would accomplish that for him.

"Tell me again," Malak said. "Why have we come to this miserable planet?"

"Chulak is the homeworld of the Jaffa." Herak pressed another attack, but Malak dodged it easily and switched his stick across the back of the Jaffa's legs as his velocity carried him forward. Herak fell to his knees with a surprised grunt. "Since Apophis was killed, the Jaffa here are without a leader. Anubis will reclaim this world for his empire."

Malak walked over to the weapon rack and hung up his stick. When he turned back, the Jaffa was on his feet, regarding him calmly. "Why are you so interested in the Great Lord's plans?"

"No reason." Malak pretended to study his fingernails. "You should probably get to the hanger bay."

"We'll leave it here, then. Until tomorrow." Herak inclined his head slightly. It was as much a sign of respect as the Sith Lord could hope to get from the man. For now. Malak did not move until the doors closed behind him.

The Dark Lord of the Sith calmly strode over to the viewing screen, looking out at the desolation below. He could see the fires from orbit. The al'kesh had done their job well. Most of the villages were destroyed and the rest would soon follow. What little resistance there was left would be put down, and the survivors would swear their allegiance to a new god.

Darth Malak decided how Anubis was going to die.

*********

The pel'tak was deserted but for the shrouded form of Anubis who lurked in a far corner of the room, idly looking out of the viewing window. Anger fuelled him now. He was not one to admit failure, but he should have listened to his First Prime. Overconfidence had been his downfall. The cursed Tau'ri had thwarted him again. Well, it was no matter. The Tau'ri would be dealt with soon enough.

And then there was Daniel Jackson. He should not have been able to interfere, yet he had done just that. There were so many questions, and he had no answers. Everything was falling apart.

He rallied himself. He was the Supreme System Lord of the Goa'uld. He had survived not one, but two attempts on his life, even gaining ascension in the process. He had gone further than any Goa'uld before him. And the stranger on his ship unsettled him more than anything had before.

Footsteps announced uninvited company. He didn't turn, but waited for the intruder to explain himself. "My Lord Anubis." It was Herak. He still didn't turn. "With your permission, I will take a glider down to the surface and see to these infidels myself."

"You have been sparring with Malak," Anubis said.

"M-my Lord?"

"You stink of the man. Does he entertain you, my First Prime. Does he give good sport?"

"He merely offered to practice forms with me, my Lord. If it is your wish, I will have nothing further to do with him."

"It is not the business of the Goa'uld to meddle in the affairs of one as low as you. It is of no concern. I only found it humorous."

He turned to look at the other man. The colour in Herak's face deepened slightly, but other than that, the Jaffa gave no other indication that he had taken offense. "My Lord, with your permission—"

"You will remain here and see that I am attended to. You will not go down to Chulak. The Jaffa there are more than capable of doing what must be done without your fumbling attempts at leadership. Go now. Wait outside this chamber until you are called for. Do not disgrace me further with your presence. Go."

Anubis took great pleasure in watching Herak's face deepen past shades of red and into blue. The Jaffa said nothing. He would not question a direct order. He bowed his head and saluted with a fist to his chest. "_Kel'cha_, Anubis."

Herak turned to go, but just then a pair of Jaffa marched into the room, supporting a third between them. He was older, with a face wrinkled of age, yet his eyes were cold and determined. There was a gash in his side, Herak saw. He grunted as his two guards dropped him on the ground before Anubis, then the pair departed.

For a wonder, the old man refused to bow at Anubis's feet, and pushed himself upward, clenching his teeth to keep from making any sound. "_Dal shakka mel," _he said. "I die free."

"Oh, you'll die," Anubis said. "Eventually. Not before I tear every last bit of vital information from you. Not until your mind cannot bear it anymore. Not until you forget who you are, and beg for death. Only then, at the end, will I finally allow you to die."

Herak thought the old man looked familiar, but he couldn't place him in his mind. He bore the serpent symbol of Apophis on his forehead, but Herak didn't remember him among the Goa'uld's ranks.

"And for my first question," Anubis went on. "What is your name?"

The Jaffa didn't reply. Anubis raised a gloved hand, and Herak heeled his boot into the older man's wound. The Jaffa moaned and bent over, whimpering.

"What is your name?" Anubis repeated.

"Bra'tac," the old man breathed. "I am called Bra'tac."

Herak remembered. He was formerly Apophis's First Prime, and friend of the _shol'va _Teal'c.

"Tell me how much you want to serve Anubis as your new master, Bra'tac."

Bra'tac hesitated only a second, still bent double, but it was enough. Herak drew his boot back again.

Bra'tac screamed.

_____

**_Author's Note: Comments, questions, praise, critique? ~ Denmar_**


	6. Chapter Five: The Cole Protocol

**_Author's Note: Halo finally enters the foray. I'm still not sure if this was a good idea or not. I certainly didn't enjoy writing it. Oh, well._**

**_Revanation: Thanks again for your information regarding the Lightsaber forms. _**

**_*****_**

**Chapter Five**

**The Cole Protocol**

**2552**

_**In Amber Clad, **_**Slipspace**

A knock.

"What is it, Sergeant?"

Johnson's voice sounded slightly muffled through the door. "Just wanted to let you know, ma'am. Desy says we'll arrive at Cleft within the hour."

"Thank you, Avery."

She listened to the sound of his receding footsteps for a moment before she walked over to the shabby desk lit by a gloomy lamp and picked up the digital voice recorder that lay on the metallic surface. Besides the narrow bed with a thin and hard mattress that was shoved into a corner, the desk was the only other furnishing in her quarters. The lone window let in the luminescent glow of Slipspace.

Miranda pressed the button on the side of the device and held the mouthpiece close to her face. "Edit: Johnson says we'll be there soon. I hate this. I really do. Something just feels wrong. We shouldn't be going underground. If word gets out, there won't be anything left to salvage. The human race will be utterly destroyed. There has been talk of reinitiating the SPARTAN Project. I don't know if I want that to happen." Her voice grew quieter, and she spoke half to herself. "John won't even talk to me about it." She sighed. "End transmission."

Lieutenant Commander Miranda Keyes had lived with her father on Luna, where he taught at the OCS academy. She joined the UNSC Navy at a relatively early age and quickly rose through the officer ranks.

Her father, Jacob, had been given an important mission by Rear Admiral Stanforth: transport the SPARTAN super soldiers deep into Covenant space in order to capture a Prophet, who would then be used as ransom to end the Human-Covenant war. As part of his command, Keyes was given control over the _Pillar of Autumn_. Seconds before the _Autumn _left Reach for Slipspace, the Covenant attacked the planet. His mission had been scrubbed, and Keyes offloaded most of the Spartans to the surface of the planet and sent three to Reach Station Gamma. He then tried to aid in the defense of Reach and even destroyed the Supercruiser Flagship of the Fleet, but his efforts were in vain. The Covenant glassed the surface of the planet, making it unfit for habitation. Jacob had picked up Spartan-117 and a handful of Marines before departing for Slipspace, leaving Reach to its fate.

Upon arriving at Installation 04, Jacob was captured and taken aboard the Covenant CCS-Class Battlecruiser, the _Truth and Reconciliation. _There, he had been interrogated, tortured, and held prisoner until the Master Chief, the ODSTs, and a group of Marines were able to rescue him with the help of Cortana, the _Autumn_'s A.I.

Jacob then went to Alpha Base, taking command briefly. He then took Staff Sergeant Avery Johnson, Fire Team Charlie and Second Squad to a facility they thought held a Covenant weapons cache. It turned out that the structure was one of the Halo's Flood Containment Facilities. Keyes and his Marines were ambushed by the Flood. During the ensuing firefight, an Infection Form latched onto his back and infected him.

Keyes observed helplessly as the form took over his body and attacked his mind. Originally, Keyes's body had been a Combat Form, but the Flood, apparently realizing his importance, merged him and several other Combat Forms into a Proto-Gravemind. The Flood hoped that his intelligence would help them to operate a damaged Covenant cruiser and escape the ring, but Keyes was able to fend it off temporarily.

Before Jacob succumbed to the overwhelming pressure, the Master Chief boarded the ship once again looking for Keyes and found only the Proto-Gravemind form. Realizing there was nothing he could do, the Chief punched through his skull to retrieve the Command Neural Interface, which would allow he and Cortana to jumpstart the _Pillar of Autumn_'s engines so they could destroy the Halo ring by overloading and exploding the engines.

That morning, Miranda's ship, _In Amber Clad_, had been docked at Cairo Station, so that she could receive her father's honours. During the awards ceremony, the station was attacked and boarded. Miranda fought her way to her ship with the help of Sergeant Major Avery Johnson, several Marines, and the Master Chief. As the Covenant armada began the invasion of Earth, she took _In Amber Clad _down to New Mombasa, where she dispatched multiple Pelican dropships with Marines to join the massive battle in progress there.

During the battle, _In Amber Clad _was one of the only vessels close enough to follow the High Prophet of Regret when his Assault Carrier entered Slipspace inside the city. The resulting shockwave of the in-atmosphere Slipspace jump caused a massive cataclysm that had consumed the planet and a large portion of the solar system. Miranda had barely managed to escape unscathed, but Earth was gone. She had had no contact from Lord Hood. They were on their own.

Abruptly, Miranda heaved the voice recorder across the room, where it shattered against the wall and lay in pieces on the floor. She threw herself upon the bed and tucked her pillow against her abdomen, sobbing softly into the fibers. Her father was dead. The only home she had ever known had been obliterated. Most of her friends were either missing or had been killed.

"Everything all right?"

She raised her head.

A panel of the wall had retracted off to the side, revealing a small pedestal. A holographic image stood there—a digital representation of a young woman. Miranda turned her face away, hiding her tears. "I'm fine, Cortana. Is there something I can help you with?"

The A.I. had been constructed from the cloned brain of Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey, the creator of the SPARTAN Project; Halsey's synaptic networks became the basis for Cortana's processing. Cortana was classified as one of the "smart" A.I., meaning that her creative matrix was allowed to expand, as opposed to the limited matrix of the other "dumb" A.I. However, this ability to learn and adapt beyond her basic parameters limited her "lifespan" to only seven years.

Cortana was slender, with shoulder-length hair and a skin hue that varied from navy blue to lavender, depending on her mood. Her current shade was a mixture of the two. She was concerned about something. Numbers and symbols flashed across her form.

"What's wrong, Cortana?" Miranda reiterated.

The A.I. hesitated, chewing her lower lip. "I don't know if he would appreciate me doing this, but I think it's for the best. You should go speak to the Chief, Commander."

"John? What's he done now?"

"Always amusing how you jump to that conclusion. The way you process things will never cease to amaze me. He hasn't done anything. He just needs someone to talk to. After what happened…" Cortana didn't elaborate.

Miranda nodded wearily. "I'll go see him. Get a report from Desy for me."

"Will do, ma'am."

The door closed behind her, and the hologram winked out of existence.

*********

The gun in his hands was cold, but the vastness of the space around him was even colder. Harsher. He felt empty inside. Alone. Isolated. Stolen away from everything he had ever known to be changed into…this. And for what? It all seemed so pointless to him now. The other Spartans were dead, as far as he knew. Martyrs in a religious war they should have never taken part in. This was not their fight. It had never been their fight. It certainly wasn't his.

Master Chief Petty Officer John-117. His rank and designation. It didn't mean anything. They had tried so hard to change him. They had given him this MJOLNIR armour and attempted to keep up this charade. Everything was going to be all right, they would say. You'll see. Everything is going to be fine. Bullshit. Everything was _not _fine. So much had changed. But he was still John.

He had been born in 2511 and first lived with his family on the human colony planet Eridanus II. In 2517, John and seventy-four other children his age had been covertly taken from their homes and replaced with flash clones to hide the kidnapping. The original children had been brought to the planet Reach to begin intense physical and psychological training to become SPARTAN-II supersoldiers. His name had been taken from him, replaced by a number. 117. Approximately eight years later, John and the other children had been biologically and cybernetically augmented and enhanced. These procedures had substantial risks; only John and thirty-two other Spartans survived.

After the Spartans' first successful operation which involved capturing a rogue UNSC officer, John had been briefed on the threat posed by the Covenant, and witnessed the destruction wrought by a single ship. The Spartans had been sent to the Damascus Materials Testing Facility on the planet Chi Ceti 4 to retrieve the MJOLNIR Mark IV armour. In the process, they had infiltrated a Covenant vessel to plant a bomb, and John had first discovered the painful reality of death as he had been forced to abandon his best friend.

His helmet lay across the room from him, discarded on the floor. The rest of his armour hung in the closet. He hated that suit. It brought back so many unpleasant memories. He was wearing nothing but an undershirt and a pair of boxer shorts.

John was six and a half feet tall without his armour, with short hair and dark eyes. His skin was of a pale complexion—a result of rarely stepping out of his MJOLNIR armour.

"If you're going to shoot yourself, you could at least do it in the bathroom."

He felt a muscle in his eye twitch slightly. It was as much a sign of surprise as anyone would ever get from him. He hadn't heard the door open. He didn't turn, but he didn't have to. The slim form of Miranda Keyes stepped into his field of vision as he sat upon the bed contemplating his own death.

"This carpet might stain," she went on. "Not to mention the paperwork. My God, Chief."

"It's not loaded," he said flatly.

"Really? That much of an indecision for you?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but she went on more mildly after seeing the look in his eyes. "It wasn't your fault, John. There was nothing you could have done."

"I'll never stop fighting," he replied. "But I don't know what I'm fighting for."

Miranda scowled at him. "You fight for the same reason I do. For the same reason you always have. So all the families scattered on all the colonies can sleep better at night knowing the UNSC is doing its best to send the Covenant back to hell."

"Their deaths didn't serve any purpose," he said.

"Didn't serve any—" She wanted to slap him, but she drew her anger in check. This was not the time. She took a deep breath and continued on, slightly calmer. "John, my father gave his life for this war. I will not let you tell me he died for nothing. I will not! Fred and Kelly—and everyone else!—died so that we could live to fight another day."

"Well, there's one thing I'm going to do before I die."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Kill Regret."

She gave him a level stare. "Now you're talking like your old self. You better suit up. We should be there soon."

"Commander Keyes?"

"John, you served with my father, and you saved my life. You can at least call me Miranda."

"Fine—Miranda. Do you think the war will ever end?"

She didn't reply. A crackle sounded over the intercom, followed by Desy's heckling tones. "Commander Keyes, you're needed on the bridge. Now."

Miranda gave him one last look before departing the room. John waited for the lock to clasp behind her before ejecting the fresh magazine from the gun and tossing both the cartridge and the weapon on the bed beside him.

He wasn't finished yet.

*********

**2552**

**Covenant Holy City, **_**High Charity**_

Fred was bleeding.

The wound in his side wouldn't cauterize, and fresh blood kept staining the bandages every time Kelly changed them. The narrow corridor was empty besides the two of them, but it hadn't been when they arrived. The corpses off two Grunts lay off to the side.

Fred was slumped against the wall; the only thing keeping him conscious was the pain. The portion of his MJONIR armour covering his abdomen had been burned away, and the flesh was charred beneath—the result of a plasma blast. Kelly knelt beside him and touched the bandages gingerly with one hand; he groaned from the pain.

"Hold still," she said with clenched teeth. "I'm not a medic, Frederico."

"I told you not to call me that." His head swam, and she drifted in and out of focus. He watched vaguely as she tore off a fresh bandage, but then her hands ducked too low for his eyes to see. He could only moan as she stripped the blood-soaked bandage off him and replaced it.

Like all Spartans, he had been abducted at the age of six and trained with the other Spartans at Reach by Chief Petty Officer Mendez. Fred had been on the _Pillar of Autumn _briefly while it was above Reach, but he had been designated Red-One, leader of the Spartans sent to land on the ground and protect the power generators for the Orbital MAC stations. His Pelican had been hit by plasma fire and dove uncontrollably towards the ground. He ordered his Spartans to jump from the ship as the Pelican exploded. When the group met up again, they went to ODG Facilty A-331, where they met what was left of Charlie Company and received a distress call from Vice Admiral Danforth Whitcomb.

Fred then divided his Spartans into four teams. He took his quadrant to a nearby Covenant landing zone, while Team Gamma rescued Admiral Whitcomb. The third team secured a fall back position at CASTLE Base. Fred's team successfully destroyed the landing zone, but one of his Spartans, Joshua, had been killed in the battle.

Fred and Kelly then retreated to the fall back position, which was surrounded by the Covenant. Dr. Halsey was still at the base, along with three other Spartans. Recognizing defeat, they were forced to destroy the base lest it fall into enemy hands. They had found themselves trapped underground in the old mining caverns beneath the base for several days, until they came across a Forerunner installation. There, they had found a rare and unique artifact that emitted spikes of radiation, allowing the Covenant to triangulate their position. They were immediately besieged by a Gravity Lift that sent groups of Covenant to their location in the underground base. They attempted to seal themselves off by blowing up the entrance to a cavern. However, the small cave had been a dead end, and they were trapped there for two days.

After Operation: First Strike, Fred and Kelly had returned to Earth just in time for the awards ceremony. The Covenant had attacked in full force, led by the Prophets. The Chief had assigned Fred and Kelly to _High Charity_; they were to covertly board the ship and detonate the core. But the holy city had fallen back from the battle, retreating into Slipspace. They had no idea where they were.

"Ouch! Damnit, Kel!"

"Sorry," she said mildly.

"We need to get to the bridge," he said for what seemed like the fiftieth time.

"You're not going anywhere bleeding like this. I'll put you in one of the holding cells. You'll be fine."

"Holding cells!"

"Relax. The guards never come down here. It's for your own protection, really."

"How do you know?"

She pointed at the Grunts. "Do you really think those two would have been sleeping if there was a chance someone would walk in on them?"

He was only a little mollified. "Maybe they _were_ the guards."

"Well, then you have nothing to worry about, do ya?"

"Yeah, but—" His protests were cut off as she hoisted him to his feet with an arm under both of his, supporting him. They started down the corridor together, their boots clacking on the metal floor. "You should have left me behind," he said. "I would have, if it were you."

"No you wouldn't, Frederico. Nice try, though. Here we are."

She half-carried him inside the empty cell and set him down gently on the lone bench. "I'll be back soon. Requesting radio silence, please."

"If I have to come after you, I'll kill you."

Kelly smiled at him inside her helmet. "See you in a bit, Lieutenant. Keep pressure on that bandage."

Then Kelly-087 was gone, and the energy field sparked into life, distilling any thoughts of going after her. There was nothing to do now but wait.

*********

Thel 'Vadam stood at the control console on the ship's bridge, studying holographic records of one of the human vessels. He pressed a button with a slender, clawed finger, and the diagram shifted. It was a chart of their present course through Slipspace. The holy city was clearly designated, but on the other side of the screen, still ahead of them, a small blip resonated. The human vessel. Still ahead of them, but drawing ever slightly closer. They were catching up.

"This has never before been attempted," he said suddenly. "It could compromise the hull of this ship, as well as destroy the humans."

"We cannot allow them to reach that colony. They will not be given the chance to rebuild. The Prophets will it to be so."

Rtas 'Vadumee came to stand beside him. His mouth worked oddly, as his left two mandibles were missing for the most part. "If it takes my death, so be it. But the Covenant will prevail."

'Vadumee was a good soldier, Thel thought to himself. An esteemed commander. He had led countless victories against the human infidels. His fleet was one of the most distinguished in the Covenant armada. But this was a bad plan. There was no denying that fact.

"Even if we do catch up to them, there is no guarantee this is the only ship."

"It is not your place or mine to question the will of the Prophets, Arbiter. Guard your tongue, or you will have no tongue."

The Arbiter was silent for a moment. "What of the Flood?"

"Our scouts report that all signs of the parasite were destroyed with the ring. There was nothing left."

"The Demon has insulted us. If he is on that ship, if this fool attack does not decimate both of us, I will see his end. Slowly. Painfully."

"Patience, Arbiter. There is much to do yet. For now, get to your ship. Ready the assault. I will gather my Elites."

Rtas turned to go, but the hulking form of a Brute impeded the doorway. He was bigger than most Brutes, and easily distinguished by his white fur and mohawk. His massive gravity hammer, the Fist of Rukt, was gripped firmly in one hand.

"Tartarus," the Elite Commander said. The name rolled off his tongue like a curse. "What do you want?"

The Brute Chieftain gave a gruff, slightly annoyed bark. "The Prophets have called a summons. Both of you."

"Now? We are about to enter battle."

"Do you question the Prophets, scum?"

Rtas opened his mouth, but then merely shook his head. "No. Come, Arbiter. Let us see what we may."

The two Elites shoved roughly past the Brute and preceded him off the bridge. The blip on the control console flashed at regular intervals, growing slightly closer to the much larger dot behind it.

*********

The bridge was empty at first glance, but Kelly didn't lower her rifle. She had had no contact from any of the Covenant. Either an assembly had been called, or the entire city was waiting to ambush her. She hoped for the former.

The room was all in shades of indigo and hot pink. A short set of steps led up to a wide platform at the other end of the bridge, which was surrounded by a wide, low railing. Her sharp eyes picked out the distant flash. There was something up there. She was sure of it.

She mounted the steps two at a time, and almost leaped with happiness when she saw the control console on a dais before her. This was what she needed. There must be a blueprint of the ship stored on here. She had to find the core.

Kelly's smile was only momentary, though, and her face deepened into a frown as she drew closer. Two small blips pulsated on the screen, one gaining on the other. She knew enough of the Covenant language to get by, so she tried her hand at a few buttons.

There. A schematic of a ship had appeared on the screen. A ship she knew all too well. She pressed the button that was inset low on her helmet, behind her ear.

_"I thought you were requesting radio silence?"_

"We have a problem," she said. "I'm on the bridge."

_"And?"_

"This console here is detailing the ship's course. They're following someone."

_"One of ours?"_

"I'd say that's a fair bet."

_"Who is it? Which ship?"_

Kelly's voice was a whisper. "_In Amber Clad."_

*********

**2552 **

_**In Amber Clad, **_**Slipspace**

"Report." Her voice was cool, commanding.

"Ran a scheduled diagnostic of the ship's systems, ma'am. Everything checked out, but then I found this." Desy punched at a few controls and lines of code appeared on the screen in an obscure dialect.

"What's it say, Private?"

The man had a narrow, weasel face. He had been drafted from a unit in New Mexico, and his accent was prominent. "It don't _say _nothing, ma'am."

"What?"

"It's encrypted in the Covenant language, but the coding is fairly basic, and I was able to translate most of it."

"Get on with it, Desy." Johnson had appeared at her shoulder, seemingly out of nowhere. The Sergeant had a lit cigar clenched between his teeth. "Tell the lady the bad news."

"It's a locator beacon. They're tracking us."

"The entire fleet?" Miranda felt her heart leap from her chest to her throat in a sudden convulsive movement.

"There's no way to tell, ma'am. Your orders?"

Johnson cleared his throat loudly and drew a deep puff on his cigar. "You know what this means."

She knew. The Cole Protocol. Under no circumstances was any compromised UNSC vessel to lead the Covenant directly to a human colony. In the last possible resort, the ship would have to be destroyed. This situation wasn't as dire as that. Not yet, at least.

"Drop us out, Private." Her tone was icy. "Plot a new course."

"Yes, ma'am." Abruptly the ship jolted forward and the Slipspace window vanished, replaced by the blackness of space. "It'll take a second for me to—wait—picking up another ship."

"Covenant?"

"Looks like it."

"Put it on-screen."

The large mushroom-shaped structure dominated the viewing window. Miranda knew that at the apex of the vessel was an artificial star that simulated night and day throughout the ship. "_High Charity," _she whispered. "Private, take us out now!"

"I need more time!" There was a pause while Desy pulled up another screen, showing several small blips closing in on their current position. "They've launched Phantoms."

"Brace for impact!" She latched onto the back of the Private's chair. Johnson took it all in stride, still nonchalantly puffing on his cigar. Heavy footsteps announced the presence of John behind her.

"Did I miss anything?" the Spartan asked.

The ship shuddered violently from the first impact. She grunted and pitched forward, slumping slightly over the chair. Johnson finally threw his cigar aside with a look of disgust, grinding it against the floor with his boot. The Chief wasn't even phased by the blast.

"Cortana! Status report!"

The A.I. shimmered over the center of the console. "Main batteries are offline. They knew exactly where to hit us. Engines are still functional."

The Private was frantically at work with the controls, his hands flying over the buttons wildly. "Have you charted a new course, Private?"

"I think so, ma'am," he said hesitantly. His voice grew with confidence. "Yeah! I've got it!"

"Take us into Slipspace, now!" The Slipspace window opened in the vastness of space, and Miranda felt herself lurch forward…and lurch back. They had dropped out of Slipspace, unintentionally this time.

"Cortana, what happened?"

"I'm not sure, ma'am. Engines are reading as normal. Energy readings show that the Covenant forces were pulled through the window behind us."

"Picking up another ship, ma'am," Desy interjected.

Miranda felt her stomach clench. "Covenant?"

"Uhm…no." A ship appeared on-screen. It was small, and triangular in shape. "The ship appears to have some sort of cloaking device, but our sensors still detected it."

"It's not UNSC make," she said, half to herself. "Open a channel. On-screen."

Miranda Keyes settled into the high-backed chair in the forefront of the viewing screen and took a deep breath, dearly hoping that this wasn't going to be the worst decision of her career.

**_*****_**

**_Author's Note: Comments, questions, praise, critique? ~ Denmar_**


End file.
